A Boy Named Sue
by lindalove
Summary: After OIS, Jayne's plans to get rid of the moonbrained girl ends in many an unexpected consquence. This is a miniepic to link Jayne and River yes its long, but stick with. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Jayne fell back into his bunk with a heavy sigh. Once again it seemed he was on Mal's wrong side, and once again it was linked to the Tams.

"Where'd she get hold of that gun, Jayne?" has been the first words out of Mal's lips following the moonbrain's latest foray into total bug-housery. "Somehow she got her hands on your hardware. Suppose she took up something with hull-piercing bullets?"

The crew had found her, moving around the hold toting one of his favourites, nursin' it like she was holdin' a bunch of flowers. Gorram freak.

Naturally Jayne had defended himself – afterall he really didn't have any ruttin' idea how she'd laid her hands on the shooter. "I didn't make her crazy, Mal. Hell I didn't want her to come on this gorram ship." But now, as he settled back onto his hard bunk, he saw he has been stupid, to touch on the sore spot that was Ariel."Are you sure that's how you want this conversation to go?" Mal had hissed.

Either way, it'd been yet another excuse for Mal to come down on him. And now, figurin' that he'd also slept through the bounty hunter's visit, he was in it even worse. "Remind me I'm paying you for?" had been Mal's reaction. "Gorram it, in the end it was River that saw him off. Seems she's swiftly taking over some of your public relations responsibilities….so remind me why I'm payin' you?"

Jayne could hardly believe it. It was bad enough that Kaylee had been claiming the girl had killed three of Niska's crew with little more than a blink (which, he reasoned, was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard) but to have Mal comparing him – him of all people, only one of the best gorram merc's outside of the Core – to the freak. It was _far_ from shiny.

He moved heavily onto one side, and then reached out to strip the thin shield of sheeting that laid between him and Vera. Gazing at the gun, he pulled her from her locks, and automatically began to take her to pieces for the fiftieth time this week. It was, to Jayne, a form of meditation. Try as he might however, his mind would not shift from the girl.

She bugged him in a way he couldn't quite figure. She certainly annoyed him – hell with the catawaulin' and the downright confusin' chatter that came out of her mouth, even Shepherd must've cussed her a few times, he figured. But there was more to it than that. There was that creepy way she seemed to be able to read his thoughts. Once too often now he had been makin' some plans and she'd made some kind of freak-ass comment that just somehow seemed to hit a mark. "Your toes are in the sand," she muttered to him that time on Ariel.

Jayne shifted uncomfortably at the memory. Bad enough that she'd smelt somethin' on him anyway, but what'd been worse was that it'd made him feel bad, like the way he'd felt sometimes as a kid after he'd stolen credits from his pop's back pocket.Gorram it, he was Jayne Cobb, and he never gave a rat's ass what anyone thought 'cept for the man that was payin' him, and only that for necessity. Who the hell was _she_ to make him feel as if he was wrong?

Tensing his jaw, Jayne also recalled the way she'd threatened him. Kill him with her brain. Total gosa of course but all the same, the type of gall that if anyone else had tried it they'd had his fist in their face before they'd had a chance to spit.

His hands gripped around Vera as he sat back and pondered. There was somethin' about her, that jus' din't feel right. And he knew from bitter experience when he smelt a rat -trouble followed. But the fact was, that now Mal'd got all noble about lookin' after the girl and her poncy-Doc brother, he was stuck with them both. Tricks like he pulled on Ariel were now no-go.

So he would have to find another way, he figured, to get back in control of the situation – to get back in Mal's good books…"and, gorram it, get that girl scared of me like she should."

For the time being however – it would have to wait. He'd just heard the call of Shepherd's calling the crew to dinner, so for the time being had plans to focus on a more pressing matter - filling his belly. Deftly, he sprung from his bed and made his way to the galley.

* * *

River looked up as the big one lumbered into the kitchen. As normal, she noted, he was one of the first to arrive. "Tick, tock, like a clock," she murmured to herself. The crew was full of patterns, many of which were predictable. Jayne's predilection to be first at feeding time was one such example. 

She watched him out of the corner of him eye as he dragged a chair from under the table, and lowered himself into it. For his considerable mass, she noted, he moved with a rare lightness. Like an animal, she mused, ready to spring. As if on cue, his eyes darted expectantly like a big cat waiting to be fed, from the table to Book, who was preparing to serve.

By now the others were already arriving to the table, laughing and talking to each other, happy to be in each other's company. As they came in, she felt her mind soak up their feelings and echoes of their thoughts – past or present, it was hard to tell. However, she noted - whereas the others thoughts were constantly moving and overlapping, mixing in like the complex mass of connections, Jayne's mind was focused only on the steaming pot that the Shepherd was now carrying to the table.

As she picked up a piece and bread and began to chew, she caught herself wondering, mildly, why it was he was so different. At least on the surface, she knew he rarely troubled himself with questions of morality or concern for others. At least from her experiences, Jayne's thoughts revolved around only a few choice issues – money, guns, food and women. And although much of her found this repugnant, there was also something about it that offered a calming, basic simplicity.

With Jayne, she recognised, there were few ifs and buts - only survival, at all costs. The others were often pulled in ten different directions at once. Mal with his twisting and conflicting feelings towards Inara. Simon with his thoughts towards herself of equal love and resentment. Even Kaylee with he sunny nature that hid her own fears about her worth to Simon. Jayne however, only ever thought; What does this mean to me?

Although she did not know why, she found this focus, this brutal, strong sense of self - comforting.

As she mused upon this subject, she suddenly saw his eyes flash towards her, and lock into hers. At which point, again like an animal, he stopped chewing, and stared warily as if awaiting an attack. Yet River was unsurprised. She already knew Jayne was about to follow another familiar pattern.

She sat back and waited, and sure enough…"What'cha lookin at, moonbrain?" he barked.

She eyed him coolly in response, but said nothing. She already knew she needn't as any moment now… "Back off, Jayne!"...Simon would leap to her rescue. As he did so she sat back to watch the chain of events that always followed.

Jayne mouthing a series of cusswords, while rising to his feet. Simon accusing him of a lack of respect. And finally, just as Jayne was moving to throw his plate directly in Simon's face, Mal's stepping in with a low tone, stopping them in their tracks. Jayne barking back, Mal having the last word, and then Jayne turning on his heel like an angry, injured lion. Again, she mused, a predictable outcome.

No, she concluded, as she drew her eyes from Jayne's retreating bulk and back to the food on her plate, Jayne was a creature of habit. And although somehow compelling – he was no mystery, she thought. And certainly no challenge.

* * *

Jayne stormed off down to the hold, his body stiff with rage. Bad enough that he was apparently stuck on this ruttin' boat with a half-mad gun totin' girl, he had to also accept that fact that if she started sizin' him up he had to gorram well ignore it. 

"They forget that last time she sized me up I ended up with a gorram knife across the chest!" he muttered to himself. "And they expect me to what – smile and engage the moonbrain in conversation? How'd that go exactly anyway – hell, yeah honey that's real interestin' - save for the fact that you're as mad as a statue-buildin' mudder."

He strode purposely down the steel stairs towards his weight block. At times such as these he knew the weights were the only thing keeping him from landing a fist on the side of someone's - maybe even Mal's - face, which he knew would mean the end of his 10, but worse still, probably another trip in the airlock. He lumped himself down under the block, lifted the bar above him, and began to flex. Up, down, up, down…

Slowly, the rhythm began to calm him. But as the minutes passed, and his attempts to focus his mind on that cute whore on that dusty rock and the things she'd done with Vera - he still couldn't shift the girls face from her mind. He imagined her face, that seemed to both challenge and berate, without speaking. That pale, ghostly face with those dark, sullen eyes.

Jayne was not a great man for self-reflection. As a result when he attempted to understand his own or even others feelings, he often found himself at worst confused and at best, bored. However this was something he accepted about himself. In his line of work, emotional awareness rarely served a purpose. Better to act and react, survive, think on your feet rather than consider what life's plan had waitin' round the corner, he reasoned. "The only plan worth figurin' out is the one that's gonna make me rich," he muttered to himself.

So why was it, that despite everything, this code that had served him so well for so long – seemed to be failing him now? There was no purpose in the girl, no practical merit- he oughta be givin' her a good ignorin', not gettin' worked up about her like some bull on heat.His brow crinkled. Whywas it that she bugged him so?Somethin' else beyond the annoyances and the mind readin' and the threats? Jayne stopped shifting his weights in mid-air as this thought came to him. "It's gotta be said, I ain't been so bothered about any one person for quite some time," he said to thin air.

"But I sure as hell ain't gone carrying on feeling like it," he continued, lowering the weight and rising to his feet. "I'm gonna put this thing to rest."

* * *

River hadbeen truly surprised when Jayne had directly approached her the following morning and engaged her in conversation. Normally he only spoke to her in yells, directing his conversation about her at Simon - as if she wasn't really a person. And he had never ever directly moved towards her, unless it had been to hold her down with those heavy arms during her less cogent moments.

But that morning, he had sidled up to her as the others were sorting through the latest cargos. More of those strange dolls with wobbly heads, she noted.

The first thing she noticed was that his body movements expressed both reticence and purpose. She had often enjoyed watching Jayne move, as he was a very physically expressive man. Each tensed muscle, each movement, conveyed a basic want, need or feeling. But until now, they almost always conveyed a single message. Now, for every step forward he made, he also seemed to pull away. This was a break in his pattern. Jayne rarely had conflictions.

And then, he had said, in a surprisingly civilised, controlled tone: "I've come to the conclusion that me an' you need to have a proper talk."

She had turned to him, tilting her head up expectantly. Her big eyes widened to meet his, and she went tospeak, but as normal found that her mind and her words only loosely conveyed her suspicion and surprise. "And thus came the end of Paradise." she replied. Immediately she felt irritated at her inability to express her thoughts. But also a little embarrassed.

Jayne stared at her blankly, before replying: "Yeah, well, how's about I talk and you jus' listen." At which point he wrapped a tanned hand around her slim forearm, and pulled her gently beneath the metal staircase.

River was shocked to feel the sudden heat of his hand on her cool skin. She was also alarmed at his attempt to lead her, and automatically resisted by pulling her arm away. He turned to her, his face poorly concealing his irritation. "Look, gorram it, I'm not gonna throw you out of the airlock or nuthin'!" he grunted.

She looked at him with a face she hoped conveyed only how unconvinced she was.

Either way, he continued: "I just figure that there's words we need to have..or well, some kind of communication…(muttering) yer gorram moonbrain.…because I'm getting mighty sick of being the bad dog round here. And it always seems I'm bad dog lately, 'cos of you."

River considered his words. She was again surprised not only at this attempt at communication, but also that he was, it seemed, addressing her as an individual. Something, she realised, she rarely experienced from the rest of the crew. To them she was mainly Simon's unpredictable little sister, or a fragile flower to be looked after.

Of which, she admitted - she was both. But she also knew she was much more, although was unable to express it, or even figure out what it was she wanted to express. She looked at Jayne expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

His face darkened as he reached a hand up to rub self-consciously on his dark goatee. "Look," he said, "I think you know how I feel about you and your brother. Well, hell I still think you're more trouble than your worth but at the end of the day Mal's payin' me and what Mal says goes…(muttering)..the cows-ass. So I'm not plannin' on pullin' and tricks… like, um, Ariel."

River narrowed her eyes at this reference to the time he had tied to betray them. As she did so, she saw Jayne's eyes hood over momentarily in an expression of guilt, although he quickly recovered and resumed his normal defiant glare. She tried hard to sense whether what he was saying was genuine.

"But I do needs to find me a way of livin' on this boat with you. So I figure we need to find a way of livin' that suits us both. 'kay?"

She looked hard into his cool eyes and nodded.

"So I'm figurin', we meet each other halfway."

The plan had come to Jayne the previous night, as he had laid alone in his bunk, listening to the quiet, steady wheeze of the ship. He knew that he could never convince Mal the girl had to go, just because she might have the Alliance on' em, and well, because she annoyed the hell out of him. Both these arguments had failed with the brother, and what's more backfired. Mal was keener'n ever to keep these strays it seemed, for reasons of his own.

However, there was chink of light. No one really understood the girl, and what she was capable of. Further, he figured, no one really wanted to. Which is why, to all sense and purposes, they were currently treatin' her like a fragile princess….or like a ticking time bomb.

Personally, he was…well, pretty sure she was little more than a schoolgirl who'd gone a bit bug-house. Kaylee's claims about the gun were just too far out. The other stuff about foolin' the bounty hunter, well she was certainly bright, as he'd give her that. But a real danger? Some kind of gorram fighter? Well, it was gosa, he told himself.

However as it was, no-one really knew either way. Which is why, he'd decided, he would find out.

If it did turn out she did have some kind of freak-ass powers, he reasoned, he'd at last have his hard evidence that she had to go, because she would be a danger. With a bit of luck, he'd suffer some minor self-injury that would easily present a decent argument that she was a bomb waiting to go off – "I mean, gorram it Mal – the moonbrain tried to shoot me!" And if she went, so did Simon.

Of course, there was also the more likely outcome that she wasn't any sort of danger. In which case, he decided, he could at least claim the glory for puttin' the others fears to rest. He'd already sensed a new atmosphere on the ship since she's started to "read minds" and started actin' like a ruttin' magnet to guns, he noticed. Jayne could be the one who saved them, he reasoned. And in his mind, he would be acting like the real gorram leader on this boat. "Hell, Jayne Cobb's a team player, " he murmured.

Sitting in his bunk in the dark, the plan had seemed both practical, and easy. He was going to train this girl how to fight, at night, with his weapons, when no one else was around. And see just what the hell she was really made of. However as he stood in the hold now, peering down at the skip of a girl, he felt a wave of guilt pass over him as she gazed at him, with what looked like actual interest in what he had to say. He wasn't too used to that with the girls.

First of all, a (very) small voice in his head questioned, was it fair to mess around with her? She's already been through hell, what with the whole cuttin' into the brain thing, the whole messed up parents and then to cap it all being stuck in a freezer box for the best part of two weeks. Oh yeah, and bein' chased by the Feds. Thinkin' about it, she'd done pretty well to hold up against all of that as it was.

However, just before he could bring himself to be impressed, Jayne pushed these doubts and sympathies out of his mind. They served no purpose. At the end of the day, he asserted, she was an unknown quantity – a possible danger, and what's more a gorram annoying one at that who has made im lookstupid a few too many times. He was gonna have the balls to do what Mal should've done weeks ago.

"So this is what I'm thinking…" he began.


	2. Chapter 2

River had seen though the plan within seconds, of course. She knew Jayne well enough to know he would not do anything without it having an immediate benefit to himself.

She'd also – rather surprisingly, she thought - managed to successfully translate her concerns to him, with a mixture of a few words and facial expressions. "The sea always comes back to itself," she had muttered. Naturally, he tried to appear as if he has misunderstood.

"Gorram moonb-..! I mean, uhm, I'm not getting' it. Just give me a yes or no! I mean, uh – please." His attempts at charm however were less successful, she noted.

However, despite herself, she had been impressed. Schooled and subtle Jayne was certainly not, but he was also far from stupid.

She did not press him with her doubts however. Jayne obviously thought he was tricking her into revealing something to the others, she mused. However she made her mind up to agree anyway – afterall, Jayne's plan offered her a means of finding out at the very least what she was capable of. Maybe she did have something to reveal. Something that the others had been keen not to investigate. To them, it seemed, she was little more than a minor mind reader, and occasional psychic – but not really, well, a real _person._

So she had agreed, and now found herself slipping along the corridor as planned, towards the hold. It was in the early hours, and the ship was eerily quiet, save for the ship's warm, constant, comforting hum.

Lightly, with a dancers grace, she patted down the steel staircase towards the bowels of the ship. The hold was dark, and appeared empty. For a moment, she thought she had been set up. Perhaps one of Jayne's childish games, she thought with growing irritation, remembering how he had got Simon to first don a spacesuit - despite his fear of enclosure.

However, just as her toes touched the floor, the lights glowed on. They were dim, but revealed enough.

The big one was standing, resolutely, in the middle of the hold floor. He was wearing his usual close fitting shirt and cargo pants, but was also, she noticed, bedecked from head to feet with artillery - and a few choice knives. A substantial-looking Vera was cradled in his arms. This is obviously meant to make a point, she thought to herself. He's in charge.

She had to admit, though, he looked pretty mean. And, the burgeoning woman within her noticed, very much a man. He was certainly not unattractive, for all of his…how did Simon describe it? Ah. Ape-like qualities.

At this very thought, she also became aware she hadn't fully thought out this unfolding chain of events. Here she was, little more than a girl, standing in a dark hold, alone, with a man who was at least twice her size. Not to mention a very untrustworthy, selfish and generally violent man who had actually tried to hand her over to the very men who had –

It was too much to think about. Too painful. But she had scared herself. Urgently, she started to back away.

Jayne's face meanwhile changed from he hoped had been manly determination, to confusion, to alarm. "Whoah!" he hissed. He held up a hand, as if to wave a white flag.

"What'cha doin', gorram fr-" he began, although stopped mid sentence. With a slow realisation, it dawned on him that perhaps he had made rather too much of an impression. He looked at the small creature that was backing away from him, dressed in her normal childish, white skirts, and grimaced.

Earlier, when she had agreed to the plan, she has seemed totally unfazed, and unafraid. If anything he had sensed she was keen to try his experiment, although he also sensed she didn't exactly trust his motives. He had, he'd admitted, been impressed. But looking now at her – with her already pale face sheet-white with terror, and with the glimmer of tears in her sad eyes - he wondered if he was truly doing the right thing.

Perhaps she was simply permanently bug-housed, he wondered. She sent out one signal, and then turned it on its head. But although she bugged him – and he was aware he was feelin' mighty irritated as well as uncertain right now at this turn of events - he wasn't quite sure he wanted to be responsible for her tipping over the edge.

Partly because he'd get the blame but also – although he did not consciously admit it - because he didn't want to be directly responsible for causing her any more pain. Since he'd found out about the brain cuttin', he'd just wanted rid of her – not, _rid_ of her. I mean, he wasn't that much of a gorram black dog.

For a moment, they both stood totally still, watching each other like two creatures prepared for fight – or flight. River's mind was racing, wondering if she could trust this man, or whether by working with him she was effectively sending herself back to ….them. She visibly shivered, her small body quaking gently in the thin fabric of her dress.

Jayne's meanwhile had predictably stopped focusing on her and returned to his own situation. He begun to fret whether the scrap of a thing was just about to run upstairs and rat him out to the crew. He was also wondering whether he really wanted to trust her with one of his weapons anyway – jus' in case she decided to take a pot-shot at his ruttin' head. Which would jus' be shiny.

But presently, it was Jayne that made the first move. Whether through grit or dumbheadedness, he wasn't sure, he gently lowered himself to his knees with his hands in the air. Then, with a steady movement, he lowered a hand up to his shoulder, and unlocked his artillery belt. At once, his numerous guns and knives all fell away from his body, and landed with a muffled thump on the ground. Then he stood up again, took two steps back and then fixed her directly in the eye. "Choose one," he murmured.

River just stared. She was amazed. She had already sensed that Jayne was having second thoughts about the wisdom of this plan – although she could not quite figure out why. She could not however work out why in gorram hell he had just basically laid himself bare.

Jayne meanwhile, was trying hard to loo nonchalant, despite the nervous tension that was now building in his gut. However, his mind was racing too. It wasn't just because he was so gorram well keen to be rid of her, or to grab the limelight for figurin' her out, he was realising. _He_ actually needed to know what she was capable of, he had finally realised. The girl bothered him mainly because she _may _be dangerous. And although he hated to admit it, and vowed never to admit it again, he was just ever so slightly – _afraid._

River meanwhile was considering her next move. As she stood at the bottom of the staircase, one foot on a stair, the other rooted to the ground, she knew that although by trusting this man she had much to lose – she also had potentially much to gain. No one else was offering to help her find out what she was capable of. What she _was. _

For what seemed an age, she looked directly into his cool blue eyes, trying to sense his purpose. He looked back into her own dark pools, unblinkingly. Something had to give.

Eventually, ever so cautiously, she moved silently towards the pile of guns. She finally reached it, and for a moment stood over it, considering her next move. She already knew she was going to choose the smallest pistol she could find, because she knew that anything bigger could potentially flip Jayne into full-out attack. Which she was _very _keen to avoid.

However - now that she was standing over this great pile of weaponry, she was felt ever so slightly more at ease. Her body took on a more confident stance, and a small smile came to her lips, as she realised she had him in a position of reduced power. A strange, illogical impulse came to her.

Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and reached out a slim, pale arm. But before she grasped hold of the small silver gun she had already spotted at the bottom of the pile, she ran her fingers gently, and slowly, along Vera's barrels.

Not wishing to overstep the mark however, she soon gripped the silver pistol's stock, and stepped back, pointing it safely at the ground. She looked up. Jayne was looking at her though his brows with a strange intensity – although he was also, she noticed, visibly deflating with relief.

River saw that between the two of them, they had agreed to trust each other. What she had failed to see however was Jayne pull his hand away from his shorts – from the small throwing blade he always kept for emergencies.

Clearing his throat, he muttered: "Good choice. If you take a pot-shot at me with that thing, the worst I'll get is a ruttin' body piercing."

"I'll aim to avoid it," she murmured, with a surprising clarity. "Let's begin."


	3. Chapter 3

Jayne had to admit, so far, it seemed that Kaylee's claims were totally unjustified about River's shootin' prowess. As he sat back in his chair, pushin' against the kitchen table and waitin' for Simon to make his next move, he couldn't help but muse on the fact he felt, well, disappointed.

"Come on, stop screwin' around," he barked at Simon, as he mused over River. The Doc was, as ever, taking ages over his choice of card. Even Book looked a mite impatient. Around them, other members of the crew entered and left. Mal however, was in his room as usual. He'd been as grumpy as hell since they got back from that whorehouse.

"I'll move when I'm good and ready, thank you Jayne," Simon replied, however the mercenary noticed with some pleasure how the boy then slapped his plum card a mite too speedily on the table. Book then sat up, ready to take his turn.

No, thought Jayne, that first night when gorram River had picked up that silver pistol, he had been fully prepared for her to start takin' out every single one of those targets he had set up for her around the hold. I mean, he knew it could be harder with a silencer – well hell, he had to keep the noise down or Mal'd come investigatin' – but for her to miss totally? When she was some kinda genius with a head full'a mathamsticks..mathem…. sums?

Nope. She was patently an amateur, he reasoned. If Kaylee'd seen anything, it had been luck - pure luck. Or – and this was sumthin' that had to be investigated, she was playin' with him again.

But either way, he had been disappointed. Partly 'cos he'd been mite excited about the idea that girl might be a dab hand with a gun. As it turned out though – he flicked a guilty look across at the Doc – when he'd seen her run her hands along Vera like she was strokin' a cat - he'd actually got excited about her in a totally unexpected way.

Sure, he's always thought she was pretty. But generally she was too gorram witchy-lookin' . In terms of physique, she was too skinny for him, not to mention pale. Generally he didn't trust women who looked too – well, supernatural. He preferred nice, busty, healthy-lookin', straightforward girls - with as much sexual experience as possible. It didn't care how old they were, as long as they didn't need patience or have gorram delicate sensibilities. When he wanted to fuck, well – he did.

But it was turnin' out that she was more than she had first appeared. That move with Vera had been nothin' more than a tease - and not an innocent one, unless she was stupid. He had thought afterwards - it takes balls for anyone to touch my gorram gun, let alone when they know I'm standing only a few feet away with a mind to reactin' however violently as required.

But to do it in a way that, hell, she must've known would've made him feel less than fatherly towards her when he was already buzzin' – well that was sumthin' else. He touchin' that gun, in that way, had been gorram sexy, a bit threatening, and hell – pretty gorram thrillin'.

Which was why that the more he thought about it, he decided then and there that her attempts at shootin' were so far not what they appeared. She was gorram hidin' somethin' or trying to fuzz him up using some fem'nin wiles so he didn't notice. She was turnin' out to be more of a challenge than he'd expected. But hell, he admitted, it was turnin'' out to be more than a little bit enjoyable.

XXxx

Mal sat in his room, staring at the wall. He was sick, and miserable. Not too sick – as it was just some kind of flu virus he'd picked up on one of his cargo stops. But hell, even he admitted, he was hellishly miserable. Inara.

He hated havin' her here sometimes what with the whole line or work she was in and the fact it was her in it - but at the same time he had to admit he was even more in hate with the idea of her leavin'. But she was, so that was it.

He was delayin' it of course. Since she told him he'd turned the ship around to get as far from the Core a possible to limit her options. Thing is, that had left the crew scrabbling around for some pretty lame jobs – including, he admitted angrily, another gosa wobbly doll shipment. As if his pride hadn't been gorram beat up enough.

Still, he knew that things couldn't go on. To begin with, the crew needed credits. And also, she would suspect after a time he was tryin' to keep her here. And he didn't want her figurin' out anything that wasn't hers to figure.

So he'd decided. They were headed out to some remote terraform this week - but the week after he was gonna head back to Persephone and be done with it. Get it over with and get on with. And hopefully, get a job that would at the very least get his mind of her - and Jayne off his back. The merc'd been mighty jumpy lately – that scene in the kitchen earlier on in the week had been a sign that he was feelin' out of luck – and worse out of pocket. Which meant he got mighty grizzly. And as much as he hated to admit it, he needed to keep Jayne on side, and ideally on board.

Jayne. Mal knew that he couldn't trust the hard-head an inch, but havin' him around sure was a relief, he admitted. Zoe was his solid number two, but the big guy was his heavy duty muscle, not to mention the only other man on board who acted liked a gorram soldier. That was a life he could understand – not the life of a doctor, a pilot, or even a shepherd – although he had plenty suspicion that Book was more than he seemed. But either way, Jayne was the closest he had, he recognised, to a male equal on the boat.

But there was more to it that that as well. He knew he also liked havin' the man around because it reminded him of what the hell he was tryin' to avoid ever becomin'. Jayne was like him in many ways, but with morals removed – and probably a fair few more subtle brain cells too. In the black, it was easy to slip into pure survival, too easy to be like the rest. To get beyond hope. To give up.

So every time Jayne fought with him, tried to deceive him or undercut him – Mal was reminded to stay true to himself. So it served a purpose. Of course part of him hoped one day the gorram ape would stop tryin' on those things, maybe get a conscience and become someone he could truly rely on – but it wasn't likely.

Whatever way you looked at it, Jayne was a lost cause, it seemed. It didn't matter if he had been born a murdering sonofabitch or whether he had had some reason of his own to change, to give up – he was too far gone. Or at least, to used to and too comfortable bein' where he was – to come back.

Xxxx

River was wandering down the corridor, gazing down at the floor. There were branches again, she saw – but she knew that sometimes what she though she saw wasn't really there. Simon's drugs were helping clear her mind. But it was still hard to separate reality from imagination.

Which is why perhaps she had struggled with the gun the other night, she considered. She had been aware of it in her hand, but had found it hard to actually focus on it, and the targets Jayne had set up. So when she had tried to fire, she had repeatedly missed. The same focus she had had previously in her eyes and her mind – simply didn't materialise.

It was confusing. When she had shot Niska's crew, it had been automatic. The gun had felt like an extension of her, rather than a separate thing. Also, she found that she had felt no fear or surprisingly any guilt as a result of her action. It had been necessary, she had to do it, and it had been done.

So why now, when she had touched the pistol, did it feel alien and alarming? Why did the way it look change before her eyes?

Furthermore, her failure had been embarrassing. She hadn't quite known why she had touched Vera the way she did, and hadn't really thought about the wisdom of it – but immediately afterwards Jayne had seemed to regard her with a new kind of respect.

Somehow, she had communicated something to him – she wasn't quite sure what, but figured he had understood at least that she was more than a little girl. There had at least been a few less "moonbrains" – which wasn't her favourite term. He'd even once stumbled over her name.

So when she had then been unable to shoot the gorram gun, she'd been more than a bit deflated. Jayne had also seemed slightly perplexed – although surprisingly none too irritated. He just kept looking at her in a curious way, as if she was some kind of new pistol that'd just come out on the market. Though he'd also been thinking she was faking, she'd realised later. It was also suspicion.

Maybe as a result, he had seemed rather reluctant to come to close to help her out too much after that. She had expected him to at least show her how to hold the thing correctly, as it seemed her previous instincts had deserted her. But he had stood away - and when she reached out to him later to offer back the gun, he had looked almost conflicted as he grabbed it and slammed it back into his artillery belt.

As then, he had just grunted: "Okay. I think we need to find somewhere else to practise. 'Cos at the moment you're shootin' like a one eyed dog who's been enjoyin' the delights of mudders milk a fair too many times."

She had, to her surprise, felt crushed. River had never been overly brazen about her natural intelligence, but she knew that compared to the vast majority of people, she was extremely bright. When she set out to try something new, she grasped it almost immediately. She didn't have to _try. _

This new development was to her, a new insight into her condition. Did this mean she was actually less intelligent than before? Because she didn't feel like it. She looked up and around her. Without trying she could almost see the way the ship fitted together, its workings, its patterns. Why then such a failure with the gun?

Suddenly, confusion gave way to frustration. River had often felt angry lately at her lack of ability to communicate with others. But she had never had cause to question her abilities. And now she had. Maybe, she mused, I'm not what they all really think I am. Maybe whatever they – she shuddered at the recollection - built me for, they built me _wrong. _

She had been so involved in her thoughts, she failed to notice Jayne's familiar figure moving determinedly towards her down the corridor. Her mind soon caught the echo of his thoughts however, and she looked up to face him just as he stopped directly in front of her. His chest rose and fell as for a moment, as a beat passed.

The quickly, he muttered: "Okay. We're on our way to a gorram planet. I'll be helping Mal but there'll be time to grab an hour or two practise in the outside, if you can shake off your gorram brother long enough. Maybe this boat's puttin' you off your game. Either way – " and she noticed the emphasis change in his voice - "I aim to find out."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving only the musky scent of cigars and gun grease floating in his wake.


	4. Chapter 4

Jayne laid down the heavy cargo box of dolls in the dust, and stepped back in disgust. Why the hell gorram terraformers were so mad for these creepy little things, he reasoned, he had no ruttin' idea. All he could think was, that they must be a big bug-housed themselves if they went for gorram sentimental crap like that.

Now if they had had a use, that would've been different he reasoned. Like if they were hats. Hats were always good, he found, no matter what.

He looked up at the dusty surrounds that spread out around him. Mal was standing to his left, Zoe to Mal's left again. Before them stood the normal rag-tag crew of locals they normally had to deal with on gigs like this, lookin' ornery but at the same time just a little bit scared. They were gunless. He liked it. Mal was talking to 'em, doing the deal. No doubt a rubbish one. He din't like that.

Still he reasoned, Mal had said the stop after would be Persephone, which meant a chance for a decent job and some decent money. And possibly a chance to get off the boat and get a change of scene. He'd been enjoyin' the puzzle of the girl lately - but he needed to scratch an itch that she'd started with the Vera-strokin'. And as he wasn't lookin' to get it scratched by her, any chance to get away would be good.

Nope, he reasoned. He'd looked at her through new eyes since that little incident, but he wasn't stupid. Even if she wasn't settin' him up, and was jus' playin' around, he wasn't gonna play. Of course he was tempted, but it would be more trouble that it was worth just for a bit of tail. Mal'd not be too keen for example, which he had to put into the equation. Ten percent was still ten percent.

Anyway, it was of secondry interest – well right now, when she wasn't standin' in front of him lookin' equal parts sweet and mean - his main purpose right now was still to get to the bottom of what the hell she was capable of anyway. At the moment it looked like nothing more threatenin' than a bit of mind readin' and a love of thrill seekin'.

At that exact moment, Jayne suddenly saw one of the locals move his hand to his side. Anticipating the worse as normal, his mind became blank as he automatically drew the small laser rifle he had strapped under his jacket and aimed at into the thick of the small crowd. The locals all ducked, terrified.

The man he'd been watching raised his hand, weakly. In it, he had a small, black cigarette. No gun.

Mal and Zoe turned to him, unimpressed. "Well, how the hell was I t' know?" Jayne barked back.

But of course he did. So when Mal sent him away to "cool off" for an hour, Jayne had the extra time he'd planned for. He headed towards the small copse behind where Wash'd parked the boat.

When he got there, River was waiting.

She stood beneath the dry, dusty trees, the slight breeze passing through her hair so that it gently brushed back away from her clear, round face. She was wearing a ruby red dress that even further accentuated the ivory colour of her skin.

She looks kind of delicate, Jayne thought as he drew closer. Then he looked down at the heavy black boots she was wearing, and caught the steady glint in her eye. Well, maybe, he corrected. Would this gorram girl ever be one or the other?

River had decided to approach today's lesson with determination. As a result, as he came closer she immediately moved up to him to remove 'her' silver pistol that Jayne had pushed down into his pant waist. He moved to react, but quick as a flash her hands reached out to the gun, pulled it from beneath his belt and snatched it to her. She then stood back, pointed the gun to the floor, and fixed him with a glare that said; Come on.

Jayne stood there, surprised – not to mention, once again, marginally aroused. As her hands had grabbed for the gun, he had felt the slight pressure of the back of her hand on his lower belly, just above his groin. It had been enough. His body was already reacting, and as before with the Vera incident, he felt himself begin to harden. He groaned under his breath, with equal parts pleasure and annoyance. "Gorram it, I came here for another reason than this."

River cocked her head slightly. As normal, she said nothing. Her conversations with him rarely involved words, he had noticed – unless she was really trying to convey something. But strangely, that was okay. He had found that the other night, that he was actually able to understand much of what she wanted through her eyes and her movements alone.

It was sure as hell better than havin' to listen to her chatterin' gorram fairy tales, he thought.

As he did so, he looked her up and down, and then let his eyes settle on her face.

And it was then, just for a moment, that it happened. His mind slipped out of gear.

He heard nothing, save for the gentle breath of the wind past his ears and the growing thump of his heart. He saw nothing but her lips, pressed together with determination. He felt only the rising heat in his limbs.

Meanwhile, echoes of thoughts began to solidify and link together into an inevitable train. Hell, she really wasn't too bad close up. Actually, in a strange way…she sort of…glowed. I wonder if those legs could grip a man's back…..

Involuntarily, he growled, and took a step forward.

River meanwhile, had begun to lower her gun ever so slightly. As he had marched up towards her only seconds ago she had only sensed determination in his mind. Now suddenly there was nothing. She could barely feel anything from him save for something which felt like… waves. They were pulsing – slow at first, but with every second they gathered pace.

She peered more closely at him to see if she could work out what was happening from his face. Again there was that look of intensity, as from before, but his face had seemed to lighten and clear. He looked, some how, more free. And also slightly younger.

She wondered if he was suffering from some kind of stroke.

What happened next was a blur.


	5. Chapter 5

River sat huddled in the corner of her bunk, shivering. It was early evening – Simon was with Kaylee, so she was alone with her thoughts. Which, currently, was not a happy place for her to be.

The afternoon's events had passed so quickly, initially they had been hard to remember. Afterwards, when she had run as fast as her boots would allow from the copse back to the safety of the ship, it had taken her several hours to unpick them in her mind. To separate one moment from the next. But now she had – she almost wished she hadn't.

She didn't know exactly when events had started to turn they way they did, but she knew that it had started after she had pulled the gun from his belt. His face changed. But it wasn't until he started to approach her that she started to feel some alarm. He had had a quiet, resolute determination in his eyes.

There had also been the low level vibrations from his mind. It had taken her a while to remember she had sensed these before. That time outside Wash and Zoe's quarters. At which point it came to her in a flash that Jayne had suddenly changed his immediate intentions towards her.

The waves she had felt with the pilot and his wife had been calming, although warm. But the ones that came to her from Jayne were more urgent, almost angry – like the rumbling, growing storm.

He meant to touch her, she realised.

This shocked her. She had come to the clearing with a view to fathoming what she could do. And from Jayne's prior communications to her, she had assumed he had wanted that too. To begin with, it had seemed liked that was what was to happen. But then she took the gun from him, and things changed.

In retrospect she realised she had been naïve to think he wouldn't have approached her sexually at some point. It had just been that, somehow, over the past few days she had overlooked the fact that he was at his core a very basic, physical creature. Which was probably the last thing she should have done given his growing unpredictability. She had been too focused on her need to find out what she _was. _

Her inpatient fingers on him, grabbing for that pistol had been, she now recognised, like a touchpaper to a dry bonfire.A bonfirethat she had already built that first night in the hold when she had stupidly tried to tease him.

That flicker of confliction on his face that night, she now realised, had been Jayne reining in the most basic of male urges. Something had had obviously been unable to do, or not of a mind to do, this afternoon.

As things turned out however, she never had the chance to find out exactly what he had planned to do once he had come close to her. She hadn't had time to sense whether he had been about to attack or confront her, or even if she should have shot him down there and then with the pistol which had become a heavy weight in her hand.

She had had the chance however, to find out what she was truly capable of.

Because just as he outstretched a long, muscular arm towards her waist, and opened his mouth to speak - she heard a crash and roar.

River had long known that there were strange things that lived in the terraform worlds.

Some of the planets had had life on them before they had been changed, some of which died – but some of which adapted, grotesquely. They generally lived in the outer edges, where the only risk they offered was to poor, local populations. They were naturally no priority for Alliance extermination.

So when one such towering,damaged creature had suddenly leapt out of the clearing and crashed into Jayne, it had taken her a second to process what it was. But it had taken her less than a second to aim, and fire.

Afterwards the thing laid on its side, cooling. From the pads and claws she could see, she assumed it had been a feline variant. She had no urge at that moment, however, to investigate further. She was too busy taking in what had just happened.

The mercenary meanwhile was prostrate on the ground, his torso leaking blood from what looked like a deep clawing wound. He was awake however, and breathing. She stared past him as he raised himself up enough so he could roll onto his elbows and face her.

She stood over him, the pistol still smoking in her hands.

"Gorram it, you killed a ruttin' desert cat!" he choked at her, hoarsely. Dragging himself slowly to his feet, and grabbing his chest, he then leaned unsteadily over the corpse. Presently, he turned back to face her. "And what's more, right between the gorram eyes."

River was at this point, beginning to go into shock. She became aware again of the gun in her hands, which was now slipping from her grip. "I…" she began.

Jayne, mistaking her shock for confusion, continued; "Don't you gorram see? You just took out a large moving target with a single shot - from little more than a popgun. Without gorram touching me. There ain't no mercenary in the Core that could do that eas'ly after a lifetime o' killin'.

"You're a gun," he continued, excitedly, "But what's more, I figure it seems you can only do this when it really matters. When it's life o' death. Which means that the rest o' the time you've got the world's best safety catch. You can't kill unless you're threatened _first_. "

"Gorram it, those guys who put you together were really sumthin'" He then leaned to his left precariously, before dropping heavily to the floor in a dead faint.

At which point, River had turned on her heel and run for the ship as quickly as her legs would carry her.

When she had got back, she hadn't immediately told any of the crew about Jayne's whereabouts. Her mind had been in such confusion, it had taken her a good hour to calm before she had been able to tell Mal where to find him. At which point he'd gone out with Zoe and brought him back. They'd dragged his huge bulk up the boat ramp for want of a stretcher.

Simon had patched him up. His wounds her been deep, but clean, so he would recover easily enough, he had said. Jayne was now strapped down, and out for the count, in the doctor's surgery.

There had been questions of course as to what had happened. But River had said nothing in between her wails and tears. As it was though, Mal had come to the conclusion that she'd simply witnessed Jayne shoot the creature and gone bug-housed in response. "Must've been a helluva fight to see. Jayne's an ape but that gorram cat was as large as a house," he'd said.

They had then left her to calm down where she now sat, shivering.

She had been shocked enough by the development with Jayne. That had unnerved her, created a new, upsetting confusion with her which she was at a loss to explain. But she had decided not to face that right now. Mainly because to her, it paled in comparison with the shooting.

Had Jayne been right? Was she really little more than a weapon for others' use – with no control of her actions? In which case how far did she need to be pushed before she retaliated? And could anyone push her – even if she cared and trusted them?

There were now more questions than ever before, she realised. And further more, she was afraid. For herself, and Serenity.

* * *

Jayne awoke with a start and looked at his surrounds. He was unsurprised to find himself in the surgery – afterall, in his line of work he was just as likely to wake up here than in his own bunk. So at least for a few seconds, he was unconcerned.

However as the full scale of this afternoon's events came back to him, he developed an ache of worry. His concern was mainly for himself, about what the day's events might mean. Although there was also, he noticed with a groan, a familiar throb of guilt.

Questions flew around in his head. He wondered what Mal knew about the afternoon. He figured that as they had found him they would've found the cat as well. And River? What had she said? "Hopefully nuthin' – they'd not understand her anyway," he grunted to himself.

He had to find out however, and quickly. If Mal had found out what he had been playin' at with the girl either by givin' her a gun or – other ways – he knew he'd be dead by the end of the day. Jayne rose up from the bed at the thought. In which case, he had toget out.

However, at that point, Mal's figure loomed in the doorway. Jayne tensed. His hand slowly moved towards his shorts, to seek out his emergency blade.

Mal breathed and opened his mouth. "How's our favourite kitty killer?"

Jayne pulled his hand back from his shorts. "Yeah, fine thanks Mal. Better anyways. Hell that moggy put up some fight!" He hoped he sounded convincin'.

"Yeah well you did a shiny groomin' job on it, for sure.", laughed Mal." Next time though, try not to murder pretty kitty when our resident sensitive genius is wandering around and likely to witness it, eh? She was mighty freaked out when she came back. Took us best part of an' hour to get her to calm down enough to tell us where the ruttin' hell you were."

Jayne looked up, with a confused look on his face. He hadn't even thought about that.

" Yeah," continued Mal, " but thanks be she was there to see it anyway, eh. Otherwise we might'a not found you at all, and kitty liked to scratch it seems. So you could say, she saved your life. Now how's that feel?"

"Uh – yeah, great." Jayne murmured. The throb of guilt that was pulsing in his chest moved up to his throat.

"Well, I didn't expect too much gratitude. But River might, so I think you should at least have the decency to thank the girl when you get back on your feet. Which is, by the way, an order. Which I am hopin' will happen real soon, as we're due in Persephone in six days – and I'll be needin' you fit an' well. You and I are goin' on a job." At which point, Mal turned and left.

Jayne sighed heavily, and lay back. At least he could now relax, he thought, about the shootin'. Mal had obviously come to a conclusion which on the face of it was the only one really likely, at least accordin' to what her knew about the girl. Furthermore, it din't seem as if the girl had tried to put him right in anyway.

Whichweren't surprisin' really either, considered Jayne. I mean, if I had just proved that I could kill sumthin' at least three times my size in the blink of an eye, and I wasn't sure how well that'd go down with the crew, who were already pretty suspicious of me, then I'd prob'ly not be too keen on tellin' the truth neither.

However, he mused, if he'd been in her position - he'd have been more'n likely _not_ to have told 'em where he had been layin', bleedin'. He knew sumthin' about her now, that none of the others did. Which they might well like to know.

So why did she save him when she could'a let him die?

Jayne was stumped. "It don't make no sense," he said aloud. Especially – and the guilt started to throb even louder – after what he had tried.

It must've looked bad, he thought. To her, one minute he had been plannin' her second shootin' lesson, and the next he was movin' towards her with a view to sumthin' else. And she'd have had to be an idiot not to see what. He just hoped however that she hadn't jumped to the wrong conclusion.

He had never been a one to take without askin'. He was a basic, stupid dumbass, he knew, but he would never pressurise a woman into something she din't want to do. He wasn't a gorram monster. Only cowards took advantage of women. Not to mention – it weren't godly.

But she'd been standin' there, lookin' so damn mean and lovely, he figured somethin' in him had just decided he was gone see what the hell the score really was in terms of tail.

He hadn't known what he was gonna say exactly, but he did know that he was gonna ask her what the hell she thought she was doin' the other night, playin' with his urges like he was aruttin' teenage boy.

And who the hell did she think she was dealin' with, when she thought she could jus' take a gun off a man without askin' – and touchin' him close to a place no innocent girl's got means to touch?

From there, he guessed he would'a just waited to see her reaction. He figured that she din' t really know how far she had pushed his buttons, in which case hopefully she'd then have the good sense to stop. Jayne had self control up to a point, but he knew himself well enough that if he was gonna lose it over anything, it would be for women.

His John Thomas had taken over control on more than a few times before, and got him into all worlds of trouble. It was just that he liked women so much, and the way they felt inside. Soft, slippery and warm, on him, under him, around him.

But – and he had to admit he had guessed he'd been hopeful of this – she may well have surprised him. He knew he was a good-lookin' man. He also knew he was a brute, and that to some women sick of men who weren't no challenge, that he could be like ten Christmases at once. And on a good day, a few more.

So maybe she had been playin' with him as encouragement, but wanted him to make the first move. Or maybe she din't know what the hell she wanted. Hell, maybe that was it. Afterall she'd had a gun when he approached her, and he hadn't shot him.

It was probably likely he'd never know, now though, he thought, with disappointment. He guessed that she'd either be real scared of him now as she thought he'd been in a mind to rape – he grimaced at the thought – or worse, she'd be mad with him. In which case, he figured, he'd have to ensure he didn't give her any chance to think he was a threat to him – or she could retaliate. And hell, he thought – could _she_ retaliate.

He felt a cool shiver of fear snake down his spine at the memory of her holdin' that gun. It felt weirdly pleasurable however, as it hit the heat that was once again growin' in the seat of his belly.

Maybe it wasn't all hopeless, however – he also knew somethin' about her. He knew what she _was._ He had a power over her, small but substantial. And - he was alive. She had kept him alive. So at the very least, she didn't want him dead, whatever she thought he'd done.

So maybe there was a chink of light here, he mused in findin' out if she did want him. He din't know if he'd act on it – I mean, there was still the substantial problem of putting his 10 percent at risk not to mention Mal's wrath.

But she was the meanest, sweetest gorram weapon he'd ever seen in his life. She could kill or cure, and it was an intoxicatin' mix he'd never come across in anyone, or anythin'.

Even her yammerin' didn't seem quite so bad now he knew what he did about her.

Gorram it, she made him hot as hell.

So whatever the risks, he needed to know if he was in with a chance of holding her, pushing inside her, making her shake and groan. And if she wanted to, he mused, whether she would do it a few times. 'Cos that was fine with him too.


	6. Chapter 6

River, sitting on her bunk, heard the murmurs of his mind approaching her long before she heard his actual footsteps coming for her down the hall. She had already guessed that Mal demand he thank her for forewarning the crew of Jayne's injuries, but she had in her heart been hoping the brute wouldn't actually come to her.

For now, she just wanted him to stay away. But not because she was afraid of him, although she still felt uncomfortable and confused about what had happened between them before the attack. She was frightened of what _she_ might do…. if he tried it again.

And for all of Jayne's actions, she didn't want to……_.kill._.

As he suddenly jerked back the thin fabric door to her quarters however, she saw immediately that he had foreseen her mood at least, if not her exact thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his hands raised in surrender – and wearing nothing but his dirty green cargo pants and boots.

"Truce," he muttered, although she sensed it was more of a question to her rather than any sort of statement. "I thought I'd prove to you I'm gunless. There ain't nothin' on me – as you can see - so there's no reason for you to get all worked up. And I ain't comin' any closer either should you think I'm gonna start getting.. handy. Which is part of what I wanted to talk to you about. 'Cos I think you might have the wrong idea."

River looked up at him, and tried to fix her face so that it appeared calm but angry – and not, as she really felt, as fragile as glass. It helped however that she could sense he had come with mainly peace on his mind. Of course, he's really protecting himself, she thought bitterly. Afterall – he knows what I'm capable of.

But she was relieved he was at least trying to keep her ...safety catch...firmly pressed down.

She still wished he hadn't come without his shirt. He obviously hadn't thought that through, or had simply forgotten that the last time they had stood together he had approached her with a mind, perhaps, to overpowering her physically. How on earth he thought a visual reminder of his physicality would make her feel at ease, she couldn't understand. Did his insensitivity know no bounds?

His torso at least still had its wrap of bandages, which provided a modicum of decency – although much of his chest muscles and hair were well on display, as well as the red-stained tattoo on his left shoulder. Of course now she knew she could hurt him if he approached her. But the memory of the alarm she had felt when she had been unaware of her powers, and he had moved towards her, was still etched in her mind. He' d looked so - big.

However, as much as she was irritated at this thoughtlessness, she was also angry with herself. Whatever he had done – or tried to do – she knew in her heart that she had encouraged it, with her stupid Vera game. She had since spent a few hours considering why on earth she had ever tried to tease him at all, and had come to realise that it came down to one thing – because, well, she _could._

She had seen him look at her a few times since she had come on board, of course. She knew she was pretty. However she had from the very beginning been intrigued by the, well - _differentness_ of the way he looked at her, in comparison with the boys – and they had been largely boys – of her world before Serenity. He had always looked at her body with her hunger, that was both basic and impolite.

She knew she wasn't special in this – he looked similarly at Inara, Kaylee and Zoe, even when they couldn't help but notice. But his obvious admiration and need had had an impression on her. His looks had made her realise she was no longer just a girl. And like an idiot she had been seduced by what to her, seemed like a new power. So in turn, she had slowly started to explore it.She had allowed him to catch her eye. And, she had to admit it - she _had _started to admire his strong jawline and the rise and fall of his chest. The way he gritted his teeth when he sharpened his knives.

But mainly, she had wanted someone to notice her, like a stupid schoolgirl. And of course, he had. But she had underestimated him. She had assumed he would keep away – either because of Mal or because he would have recognised she was out of his league. Which of course she was, she reasoned.But as it had turned out, Jayne didn't play games, especially with women. She had been stupid to think he would. Now as she looked across at the mercenary, she felt a mixture of anger at him, and shame at herself.

At least he was now keeping his distance, however. It meant they could talk. Which they really needed to do. She _had _to know his intentions.

"Listen," said Jayne, as if reading her thoughts, "You don't need to yammer at all. How's about I just talk." He moved his head back for an instant, and looked up and down the corridor. Satisfied that no one was in hearing distance, he swivelled his head back to face hers. "Seems to me we got two issues to tackle. Number one, whether I'm a sexed up hard-head. And second, whether I'm gonna rat on you to Mal."

He continued: "Well, here's the deal. Number one. Back there. I wasn't plannin' on hurtin' you or nuthin'. I just decided to have a few words. You can't expect a man not to react when a woman strokes his very favourite gun. You just can't, well not unless they're anyone other than me. And gorram it, I am just a man. And although I think you're still a bit on the bug side of housed - you're a fine, lovely lookin' girl."

For a moment, his words hung in the air. He then continued, quickly: " If moonbrained. But anyway, I just decided to find out what exactly you want from me. I know about the shootin' lessons, but the gun-touching and the Jayne-touching is somethin' else altogether. I'm not a one for teasin'. But I do like to be…gorram it, touched."

Up until this point, Jayne had had it all planned out. He was gonna ask her outright, if she wanted him, whether she was a world-destroyin' weapon or not. If she said yes, it obviously removed the issue of him needing to keep quiet about her powers. Why would he want her off the boat if he could have her? Once again, he felt a surge of heat in his body at the thought.

However, he'd also planned for the more likely no. He would of course accept it. Afterall, he wasn't a man to pressurise. He didn't want her thinkin' he was gonna use the fact he knew about her powers as some ruttin' bargainin' tool. Nope, if that happened he would just move onto gettin' what he could out of the second issue to hand - ideally some cash from her for keepin' quiet about her killin' skills. I mean, even if she was beautiful, he had bills to pay, he reasoned.

The trouble was, he was beginnin' to flouder. Normally, Jayne had skin like an elephant. He didn't give a rat's-ass if a woman said no, as least he knew where he stood. But now, as he looked into her defiant - but strangely vulnerable - eyes, he felt, for the first time he could remember in his life -exposed.

I mean, he might not bother anyway, he told himself, what with the 10 percent and Mal an' all that. But all the same it was different thing altogether to make your own decisions that to be flatly rejected. And also, those big, conflicted eyes of hers made him question whether this was really the best time to approach the subject anyway. She had been, he considered, through a fair bit of late.

Suddenly, he decided to drop the whole subject and just use a bit of basic financial blackmail for keepin' his silence. He coughed. "So, hell, about your powers. If you want me to shut up about that, well you'll have to pay me. "Cos I don't think they'll believe anythin' you might say about me teachin' you how to shoot a gun."

Of course, Jayne had handled the situation as subtly as a brick through a glass window. To River, she had heard Jayne mention two main themes. First of all, that she was attractive. And secondly, that Jayne was aware that her powers put her at risk to the crew and wanted payment.

Jayne obviously wanted her to exchange her body for his silence. Even if she _had_ played a few stupid games, that was a new level of depravity! She felt her stomach turn with angry disgust. Even if he hadn't meant to attack her on that dusty terraform, it made little difference. He was a filthy, traitorous animal.

She stared at him coldly. River had hoped they could be civilised. She had fully expected him to ask for money, which she would have accepted. But this was too far. Whatever he said or did now, it made no difference. She had hoped that perhaps she could have _shared _this knowledge with him. She had hoped he would understand how _terrified_ she was. Through the anger, she felt a wave of loneiness pass through her at the thought. And after it, abitter wave of disappointment.

But how could a filthly animal understand human feelings, she realised, dully. She narroewed her eyes, andvowed to hit him where it hurt.

She opened her mouth.

"The lion was the king on Earth-That-Was," she began, her voice both sweet and terrible:"He thought he was beautiful muscle and mane. And it was true…. he _glowed_. But he never cared to hunt. He _stole_ his meat. Sharp hungry claws and teeth - lookin' for the next dead stray."

Jaynegave a small start ofsurprise. He had expected some anger, but what was this? And what the hell was that voice..

She carried on: "He thinks he's the lord. Afterall - he survives, others die. The pattern works. But then one day - he's caught. He's in a cage. He's meant to be a prize. But the master sees him. He sees the truth. He says -this is just a _hyena._ His muscle and mane are nothin' but show."

She spat, bitterly: "He's just a filthy scavenger.He'll _never_ be good enough.. for _me_."

After she stopped speaking, there was a long silence. Jayne looked at her blankly. But slowly, as his mind processed her words, his face began to turn. A dark shadow seemed to creep from his eyes and spread across his brow. His chest began to heave. His fists clenched.

She was indeed sweet and mean and a gorram beauty. But she was also, it turned out, a little bitch.

The truth was, of course, that her words had absolutely crushed him. Whether he had recognised it or not, he had become, in his own way, obsessed with her physically. And she had now rejected him as cruelly as he could imagine. But the worst thing was - why?

His body took over. He shook with hot, vengeful rage. He strained to stop himself from stepping up and striking her across her face. It was only the memory of what she had done to that ruttin' desert cat that stopped him.

"Okay, little girl. You wanna go?" he snarled. "When I'm done tellin' the crew about your unpredictable murderin' side I doubt Mal'd want to be within a hunnerd K of you - let alone on the same ruttin' boat."

"But you know? C'ptain's the least of your worries. Why would anyone care for a serpent that might turn round and bite. I would figure that's even a risk too much for even your precious, heroic brother. How much does he really love his l'il sister? I figure he knows he's given away enough already. So are you ready to be on your own, little girl? 'Cos when I'm done - you'll be _cryin' _for the blue hands to take you, you'll be so _alone_."

River's eyes – once so defiant – began to flicker with doubt. His words...

He stepped back and turned to go. "And you know? The truth is that I was only messin' with you anyway. You think a girl like you could ever be enough for me? I need a real woman, not some unnatural, teenage freak." And then, his final barb. "I wouldn't fuck you even out of _pity_."

His hand, tensing, closed over the door handle at his final words. It shattered into pieces, just as River's face collapsed.

* * *

Mal was sittin' once again in his bunk, staring morosely at the wall. Things had gone from bad to worse with Inara. He had figured she's been pleased about the trip to Persephone. It meant whe got want she wanted. But if anythin', she had seemed more enraged than ever when he told her. What the hell was _that_ about.

However, at that exact moment, he wasn't going to get the chance to find out.Above him he heard a sudden crash of footsteps and and roar of metal, as the hatch to his room was literally pulled off its hinges. He leapt to his feet and turned in horror as Jayne, half naked, leapt down the ladder and set him with a wild look.His right hand was laid across his chest bandage, which Mal coud see, had started to bleed again. But it was his left that Mal was really worried about.

Jayne raised his left arm and pointed Vera point blank into Mal's face.

He growled: "Now , I got your attention. Now either listen to what I gotta say or I'm gonna blow a hole in your head that even that gorram Tam won't be able to patch.

"Deal, dumbass?"


	7. Chapter 7

Mal looked down Vera's barrels and considered his options. Something had gone very wrong.

Jayne looked terrible, to begin with. The small patch of blood that he had seen on his chest was now beginning to drizzle down toward's the mercenary's ribs and waist. As a result, the big man was looking increasingly pale, sweaty - andit had to besaid, a wee bitbug-housed.

But really, if truth had been told, Mal was more worried about the big damn gun that was currently threatening to propel his brains to space in a scarlet firework display. Still, he figured, it was only a matter of time before…..

Jayne tottered to one side, then another. Mal looked hopeful. Jayne steadied.

Mal grimaced.

"Okay," barked the mercenary. "You think you're better than me, eh? Call yoursel' a Captain? Well tell me then why you ain't got a clue what the hell you got on board. Why you don't realise it'sthe smartest, most terrible gorram weapon in the whole damn world!"

Great, thought Mal, Jayne's on another ego trip. "But I do, you gorram dumbass," he replied, which simultaneously wondering whether such insults were wise at this point. "Which is why I pay you 10 percent and cope with ruttin' tantrums like this one. Now sit the hell down, soldier, and that's an order."

Mal of course certainly didn't expect Jayne to listen to him. He had seen him lose his temper like this before and it normally took at least a few minutes before he came back down to earth. So he was more than a little surprised as the merc's face suddenly changed from his normal look on these occasions ofgrim violence - to a mild desperation. He slightly lowered Vera, and said, with a slightly wavering voice:"I don't mean…you gorram cows-brain. Why is it everyone on this ruttin' boat is a stupid as a purplebelly?"

His eyes continued to scan Mal's face. But the Captain got the distinct impression that somehowJayne was looking through, rather than at, him. He sensed a chance of escape.

He sensed wrong. Jayne's eyes refocused, and narrowed. "Don't try it," he hissed. The desperation had gone as quickly as it had come. The grim rage was back. The merc's trigger finger tensed, worryingly.

Mal felt his buttocks tighten. Okay, he thought – this is not going to be as straightforward as normal. He peered into Jayne's dark face,seeking answers. Had he lost it? Was he sick? Or was this somethin' else?

Either way, he was gonna find out.

"Okay now. Jayne, listen to me," he began, raisinghis hands in surrender, "If you haven't noticed, you're bleedin' again, and a fair amount. So you probably ain't feelin' too good. Which is okay, in one way, as it explains why you're currently in danger of blowing my head off, but in other ways ain't okay - as you may well blow my head off. But before you do, I suggest you let the Doc look you over, to save you makin' the wrong choice."

Somehow, the brute heard him through his red haze. Jayne's face slipped back into desperation again. "S' true. I ain't feelin' quite so hot. But I had sumthin' to say…" he murmured.

For a second, Jayne tilted his head to one side, as if considering his next move.

Then, he lowered his arm, took two steps back, and sat down on the edge of Mal's bunk. Vera dropped between his feet.

"But now I'm here I just can't be gorram bothered," he sighed.

After the mercenary had left River's room, he had decided straight away that he was gonna tell Mal the truth about her condition. That she was, in his gorram opinion, a big risk. Afterall he had seen it with hiw onw ruttin' eyes. But just in case Mal didn't believe him however, and also because he was in a foul mood, he decided to take some persuasion. Hence he had picked up Vera on the way.

But now that he sat here, with the knowledge about the girl burning a hole in his head, and her words and the wound a hole in his chest, he realised that he just couldn't see what the hell gorram profit any of this had for him anyway. When it came down to it, at that gorram moment, he didn't care what she was and what she did, and whether anyone knew about it. And to be honest, it was all beginnin' to get a mite confusin' and complicated whereas before it had all looked so simple.

So instead, he looked up, and announced: "Mal, I'm sick of this. When we hit Persephone, I'm out."

Mal had until this point been admiring the feeling that was now retuning to his buttocks. But he returned quickly to reality as he took in Jayne's words.

"Is that what this is all about? You hate your job? 'Cos there's really much more effective ways of getting' employer recognition that tryin' to kill the boss," he replied.

"Yeah, well, I don't give a ruttin' dogs-ass for any of it anymore, I ain't built to be stuck in this tiny tin can," grunted Jayne.

This wasn't true of course. Jayne had been quite happy with life until – well, a few seconds a go, give or take a few minor points. But then she had spoken. He'd of course had much worse insults. It had just been that, she had said it with such conviction. Such _force_. Somehow it had hit a mark that he hadn't realised he had.

The truth was, however, that Jayne had always had that mark. But it had been a target that he'd buried, long ago. It wasn't something he could remember though, because it was something his mind had worked hard to forget.

But although he hadn't conciously realised it, her words had shaken it loose. Unearthed it. And now, in the darkest, dampest, coldest cellars of Jayne's mind – a trapdoor had opened. And something very old, and very ugly, was peering out.

Jayne reached up a hand to his neck. He hadn't realised up until then, but it was gorram stiff as hell. His eyes also looked down at the small pool of blood that was also collecting around his feet - and worse, Vera's barrels. He suddenly came to.

He looked up at Mal: "Gorram it, Mal, I think you're right. I'm sick. I'm gonna go get myself sorted out." He stood up to go.

"And _then_ I'm gonna pack my things."

Mal waved his hands in frustration. "Whoah, whoah. Okay, you turn up, put a gun to my head, say you're leavin', and that's it? No explanation of the…violence, at least?"

Jayne leaned to one side. His chest really was hurtin' some.

"I jus' got mad. I'm sorry. You can airlock me if you like. But I'd much rather if you jus' let me off at Persephone. I won't be no more trouble," he said.

"But why the sudden decision?" asked Mal. It was suddenly dawning on him that actually, despite the big dumbass's obvious poor temperament given that he was bleedin' like a pig - and gos knows what else - he was actually serious about going. Momentarily, his mind flashed to Inara.

It's all fallin' apart, thought Mal.

"Nothin' sudden," replied the big mercenary. "I've been getting' mightly scratchy. It's jus' been gettin' harder to cope with. I ain't meant to be in a team for too long. So - it's time."

Mal took a step forward. "Look, Jayne, let's at least talk about it. If it's a question of money, then perhaps we can come to a deal. I think you know in terms of this boat – I need you. Serenity needs you. Despite you gorram meat-headed tendencies and your ability to make me - on occasion -want you dead, you're the best ruttin' shooter and tracker I've ever met."

Jayne looked at Mal out of the corner of his eye. A dull pulse of interest passed through him at the thought of extra money. But somehow, as he stood there in that moment of time -it just didn't seem worth it.The girl was a psycho,but she'd just bothered him in a way he'd never been bothered before - and he wanted to get away from that gorram feelin' as quickly as possible. It made him feel - postal, and not in a good way. "No, " he replied. "No deal."

Mal was shocked. This was worse than he imagined. "Well at least give me a chance to talk to you properly. It's just not ruttin' fair to just leave me in the lurch, especially now I've got this job lined up. At least help me find someone else. If not for me – for the others. For Kaylee."

Mal knew he had to hit a soft spot there. He had always recognised the slight affection the merc had for the mechanic.

Jayne stood, for a moment, and considered. "Okay," he said, finally. "We can talk. But not on this ship. I'm gonna go back to my bunk now and I'm not comin' out 'til we hit the gorram Core. Then I'm goin' out for a few days to clear my head. After - we can talk. Over a drink.And you can pay. "

And then with that, he raised a heavy arm to the ladder and heaved himself out, leaving Mal standing in the centre of his room, alone.

* * *

Jayne slammed his head against the headboard let out a gasp. His back and thighs arched back, shuddering with the last, strong pulses of his orgasm. He pushed hard against the moaning body beneath him. And then slowly, as the pulses calmed and then gently disappeared - he relaxed. 

That was good, he thought, as he slowly recovered. But still…not quite good enough.

He looked down. Directly beneath him, lay a whore, her legs wrapped tightly around his haunches. She was slightly older than him, but still handsome, in a comfortable, fleshy way. She was, at that moment, smiling broadly.

"Well hell,that Captain o' yours been keepin' you in the black too long," she said, as she rubbed a hand enthusiastically across thehot, damp chest muscles that werepeeking over the Jayne's bandages."You're a gorram machine!" She let out a low, satisfied sigh.

Smiling momentarily, Jayne recovered his breath. He unlocked himself from the slippery grasp of her legs, pulled away and lowered himself back down beside her on the bed. He held his hand to his chest wound as he laid back, grimacing slightly with the pain.

Normally he felt tired, but pleasantly satisfied after sex, especially with this whore. She was his favorite in thisPersephone whorehouse. Buthe was irritated to find that he felt only marginally less tense. He raised a hand to his neck, which was still aching. What the hell _was_ that, he thought.

Glancing across at the whore however, he cheered momentarily to see the content look on her face. At least _she_ was happy. He turned his head towards her, and said gruffly: "Yeah, well. It's a talent o' mine." As soon as the words were out of his mouth however, a knot of anxiety gripped his stomach. His memory flashed back to River's cold eyes. _Never good enough…_

His neck ached even more. He looked again at the whore, pensively. He was horrified to hear a tremble in his voice as he then half-asked: "I mean, you seemed to enjoy it."

The woman raised herself onto her elbows, and looked at him with slight surprise. Then she reached out and slapped his shoulder, playfully with her hand. "Of course, you big ape. At least a girl gets her Christmases when Cobb comes to town!"

Her big brown eyes looked genuine, thought Jayne. But as he grunted his reply, he knew his tone was unconvincing: "Yeah, and best you remember it, woman."

What the hell was goin' on? He thought to himself. Bad enough that I'm lookin' to start over again, that I'm losin' my ruttin' nerve as well.

He sat up, and sighed heavily. Then, he lifted his naked self up from the bed and moved towards a wash table that stood unsteadily in the corner of the room. Grasping the water jug upon it, he poured most of into contents into the table bowl, and proceeded to start splashing himself in the face and chest. The coolness refreshed him.

Perhaps he just needed a real rest, he reasoned. The past few months had been tough and well, however you looked at it, he wasn't gettin' any younger. And maybe bein' cooped up in that boat had been gettin' to him as well. Either way, it couldn't jus' be the girl that was makin' him feel so unsettled.

Well, he continued, I made my bed now either way. I'm back on my own and I'm my own master. The best way to be. Simpler.

Meanwhile, the woman remained in bed, watching him. A ray of light from the window suddenly flashed out, and centred on his back. It revealed the thin trickles of water that were now running from his tanned, taut shoulders, over the bandages, and into the small of his back. As gorram god made men, he's a real beauty, despite all of the scars,thought the whore. And then, with pragmatic shrug - shame they're not all like that.

Presently, she spoke.

"So how's about you tellin' me what her name is then?"

Jayne stopped splashing his face for a second. "You wha'?".

"Her name," she said. "Because as much of a brute that you are, lover, you ain't never been so angry as that before. Hell, I was strugglin' to hang on!" At which point she let out a warm, throaty laugh. "And also, in all the time I've known you honey, you also ain't ever asked me whether I had fun. Which makes it as clear as day. Jayne Cobb's gone and got himself thinkin' some, on a woman! It's the only reason why a man gets mad and questionin' that way."

Jayne turned around to face her. "Gorram it Loretta, I paid for the fuck - not for motivational speakin'."

As he spat out the words, he gave her his most threatening, glowing look. But she was utterly unperturbed. Loretta had seen men just as hard and tough as this onemewl like babies in her arms. She was unafraid.

She replied, in a kindly, teasing way: "Yeah, well if I really believed that honey, I'd wouldn't just but a whore, but a stupid one. You don't ever pay just for a fuck, otherwise you wouldn't come back to me every time you pass this way. You'd just take the quickest and cheapest."

Jayne looked at her, uncomprehending.

She sighed. "You gorram cow-brain. You're a lunk but you really ain't got too much brains when it comes to real feelins. Not even your own! Listen. In my experience, there's two types of men. The ones who want sex, and the ones who want it - with a bit of care. And you, my love, are one o' the latter."

He shrugged his shoulders, and went back to washing. Were all women ruttin' mad?

"Yeah, honey, you ignore me," she continued. "It don't matter because next time you're in town - you'll come back."

Jayne merely grunted, signalling his disinterest. At which point, a moment silence fell over the room, as Loretta's face settled onto a wistful, maternal look. Jayne flashed a look across at the clock on the table. He had an hour to meet Mal. He din't have time for this gosa.

Meanwhile, with a slow grace of a woman at ease with her body, Loretta rose up and moved towards him. As she drew close, she laid a hand on his flank, and started to stroke. Her hand brushed from his shoulder down to his ribs, and then back.

Jayne said nothing. But he stopped washing and gazed at his reflection in the cracked mirror, that was barely hanging onto the wall.

"I know it's hard," she said, simply. "I know you've killed you more than your share. But you ain't got a friend in the world. 'Cos in your line of work, you can't. And what's the point, anyway - it don't pay to have roots, right? And it probably suits most of the time. But not _always_," she stressed. "And after a time it suits less and less. And it's been suitin' you less and less, ain't it honey? Am I right?"

Jayne lowered his head and grunted: "Gorram it, woman, will you stop yer yammerin."

But unlike just moments before, there was no fight in his voice, and he didn't move from where he stood. He didn't shift away from her touch.

"Why not take the advice of an aging whore, who's startin' to get a bit too gorram sentimental. Accept how you feel and get on with it. 'Cos a man like you only got so much time to find out what he really wants. Before he's layin' in the earth."


	8. Chapter 8

River sat back in the shadows and watched. She was sitting beneath the steel stairs in the hold, in one of the darker spots where no one ever came. Her eyes were fixed on Mal and Zoe. They were standing together on Serenity's open ramp, profiled against the background chaos of Persephone.

She brought her fingers to her mouth, and chewed nervously. What were they talking about?

She had of course heard that there had been some commotion with the mercenary. Apparently it had involved some gun waving. Most of the crew had heard Jayne's roars. Simon had also been called to his bunk to apparently re-stitch his wound. But she wasn't sure what had truly been discussed - and from her attempts at listening in on the crew's conversations, nor did anyone else.

Mal was keepin' whatever it was, close to his chest. But she knew that if he had shared it with anyone, it would be Zoe.

She looked out again at the Captain and his number two. They were both talking in low voices. Zoe had her hands on her hips. If only she could hear….

Certainly Mal had looked very severe these past few days. She also sensed a great deal of sadness from him. Part of this, she knew was linked to Inara. Within hours of setting down on Persephone, she had swept down the ramp, her skirts and bags in her hands, her face steely, and disappeared into the throng.

But she also sensed a sense of concern from him about something – or someone – else. Did he know? River asked herself. Had Jayne told him about her? In which case – what was Mal planning to do? A shiver of terror passed through her body as past memories surged into her mind. _Blue hands_.

Either way, she had overheardthat, today, there was some kind of meeting scheduled between Mal and the mercenary. Just like Inara, Jayne had also left the boat as soon as the ship touched down. Weighed down as normal with weaponry, she had watched with a mixture of curiosity and disgust as he had strode off the boat. There had been a suggestion that perhaps he wasn't coming back.

He had been too far away for her to sense his mood or thoughts. But just from looking at his body, she knew that he was – somehow – different. A week ago, every step he took had vibrated with that cat-like, light defiance. But now, even though to other eyes he no doubt retained that swagger, she saw different. His steps were heavier. He was carrying something. "But it can't be seen," she whispered.

Strangely, she felt a pang of guilt. She knew she had been stupid to attack him. And she had known, as his eyes had become hot coals, that she had truly wounded. In fact she had been surprised at just how successful her words had been. But he was only gorram well being Jayne, she realised. Of course he would try to gain as much as possible out of any given situation, for the least amount of effort. Blackmail was probably a hobby.

But where she should have foreseen this, and tried to manage it, she had allowed herself to react emotionally. And from the look on Zoe's face right now – she had probably made things much, much worse. But she had just been so angry with him. Because despite it all, she knew that her stupid, essentially optimistic nature had hoped that somehow, well – he might have started to become a _friend. _

But instead, he had cruelly let her down.Treated her like one of his gorram _whores._ And then used played with her worst fear. That Simon - might not understand - what she was.

Of course she knew that he had suggested the shooting lessons as a self-benefit. But she had thought that, her games aside, she had started to make a real impression on him. Of course, she had seen his lustful side. Which, she now knew, had part-thrilled her – at least when he was at arms length. But she had also, she had been so certain, glimpsed a new light in his eyes when he looked at her after that first meeting in the hold. A near-indistinct softening of his voice. Not much – she recognised he wasn't built to be over sentimental – but she was sure she had sensed _something. _

And also, he had been the only one who actually talked to her like a real person. Like she actually had value as an individual, not just as a gorram weapon or a guilty weight around her brother's neck. He had been communicating with _her – _River Tam.

She moved her fingers across and touched her cheek. She was surprised to find water there.

She was glad her links to him had now been severed, but she was still crushed by the disappointment of what might have been. And she realised, she had never felt as lonely.

* * *

Over on the ramp, Zoe looked at Mal and gave a sigh. "Well, sir, it sound's like he's already made his mind up."

Mal looked up at his number two and frowned. "Yeah, well as much as I hate to admit it, it's a blow. He's deceitful, but he's sure made up for it many a time with those gorram skills of his. He's gonna take some replacin'"

"Any idea why the change of heart?"

"Not really. Seems he just woke up with a bulls-head and made up his mind. I dunno, maybe the cat shook him up. That's a pretty bad cut he's nursin'.. And you've gotta admit, he's taken quite a bit of damage these past few months without too much recompense. He also hates the Tams. So he probably figures he could get a better deal elsewhere. Given the limits of what he does."

Zoe nodded. She knew what he meant. Men like Jayne rarely lasted over forty, so already he was approaching borrowed time. No time to lose…

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"Well, I'll offer him a better deal. But I'm hopin' to appeal to more than just one side of him. You see this meet I've organised with the gorram ape also involves one of the biggest ruttin' merchant dogs in this town. He's got a big job which is jus' the sort that should get Jayne well lubed."

"Lots of violence?" inquired Zoe.

"Yep. Maybe even a few kneecaps, " he mused, a dry smile on his lips. "Certainly some garotting."

"Should certainly cheer him up, sir," she replied.

"Yeah, well. Anyhow, I should be back in an hour or so."

He turned to go, but as he did so, twisted his head and fixed Zoe with a strange look. "In the meantime, you might wanna clear out our newly spare shuttle.You never know, we might be able to find ourself another whore." Then he walked away, his brown coat flaring in the wind.

Men, thought Zoe. Gorram Idiots.


	9. Chapter 9

Jayne walked into the bar and glared.

As the doors swung back behind him, he surveyed the scene of busy drinkers, criminals, whores, merchants and general low-lives that teemed before him. He hitched Vera onto his shoulder, and reached up to light the cigar clamped between his teeth.

Behind the bar, the tender leant across and yelled: "Hey! Read the sign!" To which he pointed to a large wooden panel that hung above the bar. On it, the words "No guns" were inexpertly scrawled.

"I can't ruttin' read," yelled Jayne. He pulled Vera from his shoulder and pointed her directly at the tenders head, before adding threateningly: "Unless you say I can."

At which point, predictably, the whole bar fell to a deadly silence.

"Naaw…" whispered the man, and busily started to serve the next drunker punter waving credits nervously in his direction. Jayne smiled, and lowered his gun. Slowly, the buzz of conversation returned to the room.

From over to his left, he heard a familiar voice. "Dumbass." Mal stood by an inner doorway, that Jayne knew led into a booth.

Jayne snorted. "Well, it's up to me now, ain't it. Afterall, I got no one but mysel' to worry about."

And no one but yoursel' to get gorram well killed with that attitude, thought Mal. He looked at the big man as he stood there, all guns, mouth and gusto. What the hell is _wrong_ with him? "Yeah, well, anyway. I got you a beer, but you'll have to come through here to gorram well get it."

Jayne fixed Mal a stare, before striding past him into the booth.

Once they were seated, Mal began.

"Okay. First of all if you want 12 percent – it's yours. But that's the gorram best I can do. That's the same as Zoe and, hell, not even Wash knows about that, so if you agree, you'll have to alsoswear to keep your gorram mouth shut." As he spoke, he started to nurse the dented mug in his hands.

Jayne leaned over. "Nope."

Mal's face fell. "Whaddya mean? That's the best ruttin' deal you've ever been offered your life, you ungrateful - " He stopped himself.

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't like the small print," snapped Jayne. But on seeing Mal's confused face, he decided to give him a bit more detail. "You see, Mal, workin' on Serenity ain't simple enough for me. I like things to go smooth, and I like to generally work how I wanna. When we first started off, it was the same for you. But now for reasons of your own - we got ruttin'.. fugitives and Alliance on our tail! Not to mention you seem to have some kinda aversion to workin' every time Inara wants to hit the Core."

Jayne hoped Mal hadn't noticed his stumble over the reference to the gorram, bitch-girl.

He hadn't. Mal was too busy giving him awarning glare.

"Well," the merc continued, "Maybe I'm wrong about that. But either way, it's all too hot, and all too mixed up in some ruttin' purpose of yours that I don't gorram understand, nor want to. Mal, I ain't like you. I ain't filled with a load of gosa about doin' the right thing. I'm just a muscle."

Jayne reached up, removed the cigar from his mouth, and stubbed it out purposefully on the table. A sliver of smoke rose up. he added: "So to me, it's all just more trouble than it's worth."

Mal noticed that Jayne's defiant tone had trailed off into something more morose. He looked at the merc curiously. There was something goin' on in that thick head that he didn't understand. Well, that's never happened before, he thought.

"Well," said the Captain, "I get it. Sort of. But what I don't get is how you didn't used to care about what the hell I planned, or what the hell I did, as long as you got paid, and now you seem to have some kind of aversion to the way I run things? Since when did you get an opinion on gorram morals?"

"Aw, Mal," replied Jayne, casually. "I always thought you were a jumped-up jackass with some kinda nobility personality disorder. I jus' couldn't tell you before, what you payin' me."

Mal fixed the brute a glare. As he looked into his eyes however he noticed a hint of a knowing spark. The gorram meat-head is tryin' to rile me, he thought. Now I am intrigued. And what's more, I'm gonna find out why.

"Well, Jayne, I thank you for your – honesty," he replied, though gritted teeth. "And if that's the way you feel, then hell, I can't argue. But will you just at least do one last trick for me? As I said, I got this merchant comin' and he's got a job that should pay. Even takin' into account my bigger cut on the grounds that I'm, like, nobility."

Yep, thought Mal. This guy I've got comin' should pay big. And hopefully it'll be enough to get the merc back to his normal selfish, self-satisfied self so that he forgets all of this gosa and comes back to the boat. Or at least had enough fun to remember why the hell he's workin' with me in the first place. Yep, that's all I need. A good job – where he's workin' for _me._

Jayne considered. At the end of the day, he realised, all the possessions he had in the world were strapped to his body, and they didn't include more than a few measly credits, especially after his appointments with Loretta, which had been fairly numerous. Well, it helped to take his mind off.

But whatever the hell he was gonna do, he would need cash. And – he admitted – it might be fun to do a last gig with Mal. He could be a self-satisfied, superior monkey's-butt but – as he now looked up to study the man's face – he was really, at heart…kinda bearable.

Jayne felt a small knot of emotion pinch his throat. He quickly picked up his own mug and drained it. Gorram it, he thought, if it's not the moonbrain, now I'm getting' gorram soft over this piece of pretentious gosa. It was a black day, he reasoned, for the Cobbs.

Just as he came to this conclusion, a tall, dark shadow loomed across the table. Both Mal and Jayne raised their eyes.

The man standing at the end of the booth was well over six foot. He was wearin' the normal gear – dusty trousers, a long coat. But he had more than your average number of large laser rifles strapped across his body.

But his most striking feature of all was the large scar that ran across his eye to his jaw, which at this point was slightly hidden by a wide brimmed, hide hat. He nodded.

"Mal," was all he said, in a drawl.

The Captain gestured towards the giant, and leaned into speak to Jayne. "And just in time. Jayne, say hello. This is my good friend Randall Boser. He's the man who wants to hire us."

"Yeah, Mal, I met him," said Jayne, casually, in reply. He reached out and rubbed his neck, before raising a hand in a casual wave to the giant. He asked: "So, Uncle Ran, you lookin' for staff?"

Mal's eyes fell to his drink. "Nuts," he muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

Zoe leaned forward over the pilot's chair and looked out across the vista of Persephone. She was worried.

She had come looking for Wash, as she needed to share the information that was now churning in her mind - but as usual he was avoiding her. There'd apparently been some kind of problem with Serenity's engine that Kaylee needed help with. Something to do with the transmission. Which was gonna tie him up - "most of the evening".

More like _his_ transmission, she thought angrily. Ever since she had brought up the subject of a family he'd been as jittery as a gorram jackrabbit and just as hard to pin down. She understood his reticence of course. She just wasn't used to him avoidin' a subject. Normally it was him that chased her, not the other way round.

For the moment though, she reasoned, that was another problem for another time. Right this second she had sumthin' more pressing to deal with.

River.

The girl had come to her earlier that afternoon. Zoe'd been clearing the shuttle like Mal'd asked. River had crept up behind her, as quiet as a mouse, just as she'd been wrapping up the last of the baise curtains Inara had left behind.

"Zoe?" the young's woman's voice had trembled, echoing slightly around the now empty vessel.

Zoe started, and turned. "River, honey! If there's one thing I'd hoped you'd picked up on your time with us is that it ain't a wise move to creep up on me, or Mal , ever…..even if all we're armed with is some rather attractive upholstery."

She smiled at the girl, hoping for some reaction, but receiving none. "I'm particularly mean with cushions." Zoe prodded.

But River just fixed her with that slightly vacant, but simultaneously alert stare she so often wore. Then she said, adopting a tone she recognised as Mal's: "Rule One: No touching guns."

Zoe nodded, cautiously. Uh, she thought, I know she's only a few years off twenty but when she fixes me with that look even my blood cools. She ain't right. Still, it ain't for me to question the Captain on this.

"Uh..yes honey, well done," she said, instead. "That sure is an important rule. Afterall we don't want to find you creepin' around –"

"I broke it," the girlthen blurted. "Killed kitty." And then her face had crumbled.

It had taken Zoe a while to understand after that. The girl began to decant a sea of rhymes and tales that created a wild haystack in which Zoe had to find a needle of clarity. It hadn't helped that River had also regularly collapsed into near-hysteria while following some other line of thought about something… blue?

But after a long period, she had got to grips with what she thought River was telling her. That _she_ - not the gorram paid muscle - had killed that gorram beast of a desert cat - andwhat's more she didn't know how. And that she was afraid she was a threat to Serenity - and her crew.

The girl also seemed to think that Zoe already suspected this. When it became clear that Zoe had had no idea, River had quietened and withdrawn. Her face had paled into an expression offearful resignation. That look, thought Zoe, is like she's just signed her own death warrant. But she had no clues as to why.

But what to do now? Zoe lowered herself into the pilot chair. Distractedly, she picked up one of her husband's plastic toys and started to twist it in her hands. Where the hell was the Captain when you needed him.

The girl obviously believed she was capable of killin'. Now of course Kaylee had also made this claim, which had been downright unsettlin', but at that point River herself had not seemed convinced, thought Zoe.Almost as if she herself had thought that if she had done anything like Kaylee claimed, it had been a dream, or a fluke.

But not now. The girl was convinced that she had shot that beast, not Jayne. Now the thing was, had she convinced herself of this – or was it really true?

Mal was due back later tonight. Zoe considered. She couldn't go find him, mainly 'cos she had no idea where he was – but more importantly, if River truly represented a danger, she also couldn't leave the ship. Someone with a mind to shootin' had to stay on board.

She had confined the girl to quarters so far - but all the same, would that stop her if she got a mind to murder? Not even the girl seemed to know. Which, realised Zoe, put the whole question of the Tams bein' here at all back on the table.

One thing became clear however. She knew that they were unlikely to get the truth from Jayne, even if he did come back. Gorram lying piece of...

Zoe clenched her jaw.

So somehow, she and Mal had to find out the truth for themselves. And then, decide what the hell to do, and fast.

* * *

River sat huddled in her room, her arms wrapped around her legs. Simon had come in just an hour ago, his face fixed with concern, but she had waved him away with excuses. She was ill. It was a reaction to the drugs. 

Thankfully, he had trusted her. Believed her. She couldn't tell him the truth. That was she was terrified of what was about to happen – and of his reaction when he found out.

Would he still _love_ her? Would he stay with her, knowing what she might do? Or had he, understandably, reached his limit of self-sacrifice?

He was a doctor. He was built to save lives. She washis antitheses.

Still, she realised dully, she would no doubt soon find out. She rocked gently to and fro, as she started to revisit her decision to tell Zoe what had happened down on the terraform. And how she had that gun in the first place.

She had madethat decisionconvinced that the whispered conversations and dark looks she had seen pass between Mal and Zoe had meant they had known. Afterall, it stood to reason that Jayne would have told them, after their last meeting. The vengeful feelings she had felt from him that evening had been like a hurricane.

Of course, River had no idea that the very hurricane she had created within him had died down only moments later. That the words she had spoken had appeared to whip up a storm, when really they – and the feelings they had evoked in him – had actually knocked the wind out of his sails. And that at that very moment, he was looking down his glass, unable to understand why he felt half the man he did a week before.

But River had also confessed to Zoe because she had reached a point that she could no longer keep her fears about her powers to herself . For as much as she was terrified what Mal may decide – and what Simon may think - she was equally terrified what she could do if any of the crew gave her reason to believe she was under attack.

Over the days that Jayne had laid low in his bunk, she had gone through a million possibilities of how this could happen, in her head. Mal pulling a gun on her if she surprised him. Zoe accidentally striking her. Perhaps even Wash appearing to fly into danger?

Were these things enough to unlock her safety catch? And for her to move into that cold, unfeeling dreamlike state she had felt with Niska's crew and the terraform creature?

There was no way to be sure. But equally, it appeared there was no safe way of finding out. Her shooting lesson had proved that such situations had to be real, in order for her to react.

Of course, she reasoned, it may be that her brain could detect the difference between an accidental and intended attack. Or somehow refuse to strike a person who she cared about. But it would mean that someone would have to take a risk. To pretend to strike her, to see.

Who would take that risk? It was too much to ask of anyone. In fact, the only person that might – the stupid, beautiful boy – would be Simon. She couldn't bear to bring him injury. Or.. _death._

There was a possibility that she might stop at injuring an attacker, rather than killing. But she knew in her heart that she had not been built for mercy. Once she started – whether it be with weapon or by hand – she knew that she would never.

Stop.

Unless her attacker stopped her first.

River looked down at her hands.

"What _am_ I?"


	11. Chapter 11

_Jayne sat under the tree trunk and picked the last leg off the beetle. He peered at its black shiny body and watched, fascinated, as the tiny thing's life ebbed away._

_He was eleven years old, and hidin'. Lester would never gorram find him though, he knew, because when it came to hidin' Jayne was the best. He knew how to cover his tracks. Lester was a gorram monkey butt and when he saw him next he was gonna punch him._

_Lester was his favourite kid in town. He liked to kill beetles to an' stuff like that. But he was also good to punch, Jayne thought. Sometimes he punched back - but that was okay too. _

_Punchin' was fun. _

Flash.

_Jayne was running, fast, through the trees. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart in his ears. His face was wet. _

_He stopped. Looked down at his hands. They were covered in – _

Flash.

"_Found ya, gorram ape." Lester's voice._

_Lester, standing in front of the tree trunk. No shoes. Blonde, dirty._

_Jayne, standing. Bigger. _

"_You jus' got lucky. Anyways I meant ya to find me. Bored."_

_"Wanna go set fire to sumthin'?"_

"_Yeah, why not,"_

_Laughter._

Flash

_Lester, pale and cold. No shoes. _

_Blonde, dirty. _

_Bloody._

Jayne's eyes flicked open. He peered around the unfamiliar, rented Persephone room, but saw nothing. It was pitch black, and he was alone.

"River," he said, to the air.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the city, Mal looked across and Zoe and groaned. They were sitting in Serenity's galley, with a bottle of brandy between them. 

"So what you're saying is," he said, "that just when I've lost my Companion _and_ my muscle, I may now at any moment by killed by a ruttin' teenage girl..?"

"Well, sir, not _any _moment," she replied, as she placed her hands on the table. "From what she said – and she wasn't that coherent - you have to attack her first. I guess the idea when she was, well, built, was that this would protect whoever made from her acting of her own mind. Which you'd want to ensure if she really was gorram deadly. If you think about it…it's kinda…clever. In a sick, evil way."

Mal looked up: "But can she really do as she says? I mean, it may be that she's mistakin' what she thinks she can do."

Zoe pondered. "I don't know, sir.But Igotta admit I was confused as to why Jayne chose to shoot thatbeast with no more than a toy pistol. I mean, I remember he only ever bought that gun 'cos he thought it made Vera look even bigger. He never _used_ it."

She continued: "And we got Kaylee's story about Niska. We can't be sure if that wasn't luck, but there's questions here - and her story provides answers."

Mal leaned forward, and poured himself another glass of the brown liquor. This is far from shiny, he thought.

He picked up the glass and downed it.

Presently, he asked: "You've not told the others?"

"Nope. No more'n I have about Jayne. I figured I'd wait until we knew his mind. But now I'm wondering if we should say nuthin' about nuthin' until we decide what to do. The rest might not feel too safe knowing we have a real live weapon on board - and one less man able to shoot it."

Mal nodded. "Yeah. Well to be sure I ain't feelin' too safe myself. I mean. It sounds likes she really believes she's a danger to us. And as much as I like her and the Doc - this changes the whole deal. Unless we can be sure she's no risk to us…" he fixed Zoe a look; "Well…."

Zoe's lips pressed together. "But where would they go, sir? You know as well as I do the only chance they got at avoidin' the Feds is to keep movin'. And for that they need wings. And people who are prepared to look out for 'em. Protect 'em. Lie for 'em."

She looked across at Mal, with an expression of guarded emotion. "What I'm tryin' to say, sir, is that they got lucky finding us. You. Are they really gonna find any other crew as accommodatin'?

Mal frowned, and gazed down into his empty glass.

"For now, we stay put. I need to think."

This day keeps getting worse, he thought to himself.

I wish Inara was here.

* * *

Jayne looked across at Randall and grunted. 

"So, you old coot, if you want my skills you'll jus' have to pay like everyone else. You don't get no discount jus' cos of family, an' all."

The two men were sitting at a table in the same bar as their last meeting with Mal. Jayne, as ever, had Vera balanced in his lap. He was feelin' tired and grumpy from another fitful nights sleep. Too much confusin' stuff, people and names he didn't recognise…..it din't make no sense. And occasionally River's face. And body.

The tender eyed Jayne nervously from the corner.

Randall sat back in his chair, his booted feet hitched up onto the table, and a laser rifle in his grasp. He was peering under his hat at the younger man.

His eyes moved slowly from Jayne's gun,lingered onhis chest, and then settled on his face.

Finally he said: "How much?"

"Te…twelve percent, minimum."

"You're a lying dog," Randall smiled, coolly. "I'll give you ten, which I guess is what Mal had you for."

Jayne glowered. He raised a hand to his chest. The wound was now finally healing, but it was still smartin'. It wasn't addin' to his mood.

Randall continued: "But are you sure you want the work? You've not even asked what line I'm in yet. S'been a long time since I seen any of the Cobbs, including those who gave you that godawful name."

Jayne sneered. "Careful, old man. 'Cos at the moment I don't know or like you none. I ain't seen you since I was a kid, so you're jus' another man to me, buddy."

Randall peered at him though small, dark eyes, but said nothing.

The merc continued: "Mal said you were a merchant. I'm figurin' you need someone to 'support' your gettin' paid."

"Well, you guessed right. I do...other stuff too though. So it ain't all jus' beatins, although from what I remember of you that's your favourite part. I guess that comes from all the practice you've had. Hell, but that's why you pa called you Jayne anyway. I mean, with that name, you're a mean target!"

At this point, he let out a throaty, hawking laugh. He then raised a hand to his head and removed his hat, revealing a dark, hairless head. He had the same angle of jaw as Jayne, but being older, his skin sagged slightly around his jowls.

Anysense of him being in the calming twilight of his life was killed however by the vibrant, gleaming scarlet scar across his face, which looked almost new. He was big and bent, grey and old – but still, patently, capable of war.

"Yeah, your pa got the idea for that from some old folk song," said the uncle. "He knew he's been too drunk or workin' too long hours to bring you up proper so he found a way of toughening you up without tryin'. Even for him, pretty cunnin'!"

Jayne looked at Randall, blankly.

Slowly theuncle dropped his smile.Then he asked:"Do you remember my visits when you were a kid?".

Jayne pondered. "Not really. A few times I guess. I don't really think too much o' home. Send a few credits back once in a while, for Matty, who's sick, y' know, but gen'raly….well, I got no cause to think of it."

Randall's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, well I guess you got bad mem'ries anyway, what with the boy."

Jayne looked up. "What gorram boy?" But as he asked it he felt a pulse of pain shoot through his neck.

_Wanna set fire to sumthin'?_

"Well, hell, Jayne, that gorram friend o' yours. You know, the one you killed. Hell, even I remember that. I mean I was away at the time but your mama told me all about –"

"I never shot no boy," Jayne interrupted. "I killed a lot of men in my life but I never killed no kid. That ain't _right._ " A bolt of rage surged through him.

_Ya gorram ape._

"Now lets' get one thing straight," replied Randall, as quick as a flash he lifted his gun and held it point blank at Jayne's face. "Call me a liar again and you're gonna die."

Jayne started and looked down the barrels. "But you're talking gosa, old man. I never.."

Jayne stopped.

Lester.

He paled. His stomach turned.

He closed his eyes and River's voice rang out in his head. _Never good enough…_

Randall watched Jayne's carefully. He smiled. "You jus' remembered. Huh? Well whaddya know, seems Jayne Cobbs' so gorram hard-headed he forgits about everyone eventually. Now that's a _rare _nerve."

He continued: "So it seems you're my kinda guy. And things are gonna work out. You see I like that boat of your last Captain's. And I'm of a mind to take it."


	12. Chapter 12

How could he have forgotten that? Jayne looked down at his hands and considered.

"Ruttin' _gosa_," he hissed. "You mean, dumb, sommbitch,"

Jayne never cared much for rememberin' things that weren't of immediate benefit. But even he knew this was different. It had been, he knew, his first killin'. And it had been… Lester.

Even now, though, he was struggling to remember the details. He was sitting, alone, in the bar. Randall had left him, after explaining his plan.

But Jayne hadn't really been listening. He had been far more set on drinking as much as he possibly could within the shortest time possible. To take the thoughts away. And the gorram feelings he had never had in his life and sure as hell wished he ever started havin'. His neck ached more than ever.

And what's more, he could hardly bring himself to touch Vera. She was now laying in front of him on the table, untouched. Things were looking very, very confusing. "It just don't make…no sense," he muttered to himself. He felt, he realised with a hideous, burning shame - almost tearful. "Gorram _girl."_ he hissed.

Lester had been the kid next door. Same age, and just as uncontrollable. He was an ideal partner in crime for Jayne, who was full of energy, and only had a much smaller, sicker and more borin' brother to otherwise hang around with.

Of course when Jayne first met Lester he decided to beat on him, but after the blonde boy had smacked him a few times back with near-equal force, they had developed a grudging respect that turned to a unspoken partnership.

Over time he found out that Lester lived kinda like he did. His pa also worked at the welding factory.

Jayne's hometown was very industrialised. His own home was one of a row of identikit metal dwellings that backed onto one the biggest industrial units in theCore. It wasn't pretty – everyone was constantly filthy from the smoke and lung troubles were common – but at least his family had work. Both his pa and Lester's would do the same walk every morning to the grey, looming factory and return just before midnight stinking of metal and alcohol.

Lester's pa also beat on him of course. Most kids got beat on by their pas. It ruttin' hurt both inside and out - and Jayne himself had suffered a few broken bones over time - but it was life. It never stopped him and Lester from kickin' up the worst trouble that they could manage though whenever they got opportunity.

Lester had been the brains of the operation however. Jayne knew he personally wasn't stupid but he also knew he wasn't subtle. His solution to most problems had been to kick or kill it, and if you couldn't, run away. It seemed to work.

Lester however seemed to have the knack of getting what he wanted jus' by talkin'. Jayne had thought it kinda lame, but was also kinda impressed.

They'd been the time they stole the welder foreman's shuttle and taken it on a ride. Neither of them could pilot none, but they had learn quick enough, before dentin' it on one of the outhouses and runnin' away. The foreman had caught up with 'em and threatened to send them to the offenders camp. Jayne had prepared to beat the guy to shut him up – even at eleven he'd been big. But Lester had jus' come up with the most convincin' story about how they'd been nowhere near the scene and who the hell did the guy think he was wasn't Lester's dad one of his best workers din't they have some big important job on. Amazin'ly, the foreman'd left it alone.

But there had been more than scrapes. There had been the time when Jayne had really had a bad kickin' from his old man and could hardly see. He'd gone off in a rage and ended up fallin' through one of the old wells in the disused factory they often messed about in and had bust a leg. He laid there three days before they found him.

Well – Lester had found him. His ma said the boy'd visited every one of the hundred gorram haunts that the boys had together tryin' to find him. He'd even roamed at night and missed more than a fewmeals.

"He din't rest, boy," Jayne's ma had tearfully said later as she had patched up her son's latest wounds. "I'm glad you got someone who looks out f'you. 'Cos you're a gorram ape who's gonna get himsel' killed one day. You need him."

When Jayne had asked him why he'd bothered - he was particul'ly confused as to why Lester missed mealson his account - Lester had jus' said it was the "right thing". "You'd'a done the same," he'd said, simply, as he'd picked the wings off yet another flyin' beetle.

Jayne remembered even now the vague sense of confusion he'd felt at those words. Would he? Afterall, what Lester'd done din't make sense. If a man's time was up, it was time, was Jayne's take on things. Wasn't no man's business to change the way o' fate. Or to put himsel' on the line. Whyrisk two men when you could only lose one?

But as he reasoned, Jayne's mind flicked back for an instant to Stitch Hessian. "You protect the man you're with -- you watch his back! Everybody knows that -- 'cept the 'hero of Canton.'."…

A few days later, Jayne's had shot Lester square in the head.

He flopped on the floor like a gorram rag, and then there'd been nothin' but the wind through the trees and a strange feelin' o' floatin'.

It had been accidental. The actual details were sketchy, but it had happened in one of the authority-planted forests up on the hill. Jayne had been runnin' . He's been jumpy about sumthin', some kind of scare…..he'd been sweatin'. He couldn't remember. And for some reason he had a gorram pistol, kinda like the little silver one he'd lent River.

So when Lester had surprised him, he's reacted in the way that he always reacted. With force.

Lester's folks had been down on him after that. He'd spent a while at offenders, where he got a few more bones broke but learnt a few new tricks.

And then he got the hell out of that crap-heel town and that drunken old snake of a pa as fast as he ruttin' well could when he figured he could make a livin' using his skills.

Jayne had thought a few times about the boy in the early years. They'd been a few strange times. He'd done some strange things. But he'd got mean.He'd eventually managed to push it out of his mind. It din't serve no purpose thinkin' on a situation you couldn't change.

But now, as he sat at his table, rubbing his neck, Jayne felt like he was standin' on the edge of a big black hole and peerin' in. Because as much as he told himsel' what had happened had happened, there was still a hint of sumthin' about it that he knew wasn't right.

_Never good enough.._

Jayne bowed his head. There ain't no one you can trust like that when you stop bein' a kid, he thought. Because when you stop bein' a kid it gets different and confusin'. And the only things people understand are the smell o' money or the pinch of a gun.

People like him.

Jayne grabbed the bowl in front of him. He then began to quietly sing, in a angry, bitter voice: "He robbed from the rich, and gave to the poor, stood up to the Man, and gave him what for…."


	13. Chapter 13

As Kaylee reached across the galley table to take some bread she flashed a worried glance across at the Captain. The whole crew was sitting around the table, eating their evening meal. As usual there was much chattering – although the empty spaces that had been Inara and Jayne's were conspicuous, she thought. Not to mention sad.

She had noticed that every time a quiet fell upon the table, Mal tried just a bit too hard to keep the conversation going. Almost as if he was trying to avoid the crew asking obvious questions like…

"So, Mal, had that big lunk left us or what?"

Wash, as ever, was first to ask the obvious. "I guess someone else was prepared to pay for the boatloads of protein he gets through in a day. I mean. Did you see that guy eat? It was like watching some giant interplanetary beast hoovering up small planets. With a bad attitude and a slightly sinister goatee."

Zoe gave a look to her husband. He looked back: "What? Can't a man celebrate the fact there'll be a marked downturn in body hair left in the shower?"

And then, worriedly, to Mal; "I meant, Jayne, of course..Inara was, erm, I mean looked…remarkably smooth."

Zoe's face darkened slightly.

Kaylee added: "Yeah, Cap'n, what's going on with River as well. She's been in her room two days – is she sick?" She glanced slightly contemptuously at Simon. "The Doc won't tell me nuthin'"

Simon flashed her a warning glare. Kaylee noted however that he also looked paler than usual. Like he'd had a shock or was ill with sumthin'. He'd certainly been hard work to get conversation out for the last day, and Kaylee bein' Kaylee she'd tried mighty hard to get him in conversation. Or anything else for that matter.

Mal looked up from his dinner and regarded the crew. They were all watching, with anticipation.

"Okay, okay," he said, finally. "The truth is that Jayne has gotten himself another job."

"Aw no!" said Kaylee. "He weren't so bad. He was kinda cute in a hat."

Book chipped in: "He also had an – original outlook that could be refreshing. "

Mal looked at them both and shook his head. Then he continued; "Well, either way, it ain't likely we'll be seein' him again too soon. And Wash, as much as I take on board your comments about Jayne's less…attractive.. attributes, whatever way you look at it he was evil with a gorram gun. So currently I have a vacancy to fill, which I guess the best place to fill it is here in Persephone. Hence the reason for stoppin' here this past week. That and the fact we _really_ need a job."

He then gritted his teeth and continued: "And as for River, she's fine. Jus' a bit poorly on account of the latest drugs the good Doc's tryin' on her. She's be back floatin' around and chatterin' within a few days, I'm sure."

As he lied, he allowed his eyes to settle for a moment on Simon, who was staring into his food. He had had to tell the Doctor yesterday about what they thought they knew, which had been hard going. To begin with he had been unbelieving, and then afterwards ominously quiet. Being' a bright lad, he knew what both him and River were facin' on the back of it.

"Look," he had pleaded, "we don't know exactly what she's capable of. And until we do that, are you really happy asking us to leave? Because that's what you're planning, isn't it?"

Mal had raised his hands. "I don't know, son. I gotta say this one is leavin' me stumped right now."

Simon had just shaken his head and replied, in a dull voice: "If you leave us - it's going to be very hard for us to stay ahead of the Alliance."

A flash of guilt had then started knawin' at Mal's inside. He had snapped: "Yeah, well I ain't too happy about losin' ship's doctor, neither. But we jus don't know what she could do, and better lose a doctor than the whole ruttin' crew!"

But as the Captain now looked across the table, he knew he had to make a decision soon. It wasn't fair on the Tams to keep them hanging, no more than it was fair on the crew to keep them any longer at risk - if that's what River really was.

He gave himself one more week.

* * *

Later that evening, Simon sat with River on her bed and held her hand.

"Mei-mei," he said, softly. " We need to talk a little more about what we spoke about yesterday,"

River looked across at his familiar face. But instead of comfort, she had fear in her eyes.

"I know this is hard for you, " he continued. "And I wish you'd never picked up – or been _given_ – that gun to find out this thing in the first place. But the fact is that both you and Kaylee seem to think you could be a danger. To yourself, or maybe….others. Well, if that's true, it's likely that Mal will ask us to go within the next few days. So we have to get prepared."

She looked imploringly at him. "No Simon no – two by two.."

"Ssshh, sssh. I know. But the only other option is if somehow we can find a way of proving that you're not what you seem. Or perhaps finding a way of controlling it. So, for example, if someone does hurt you accidentally you don't retaliate. "

At this point River shook her head sadly. She had already considered all of the options. There was only two - taking a risk on a life – or Simon keeping her sedated for the foreseeable future. Which would be effectively the same as taking hers.

"A matter o' life and death," she murmured, but she mimicked Jayne's inflexion. And then: "Gorram moonbrain."

Simon just looked back at her, in surprise. "Well, you don't have to worry about him now. Jayne's left the ship for good, so they'll be no more of that."

Jayne. River's mind had been so focused on Mal and Zoe's decision she had near forgotten about the mercenary. At Simon's news of his whereabouts however she suddenly realised that, after all of his threats - Jayne hadn't told Mal afterall about what he had seen.

She started slightly at the realisation, and then shook her head in confusion. But it was the perfect opportunity to get rid of us, she thought. But instead – he left?

For an instance she recalled the way he had looked that first night in the hold, with his guns strapped around him, and that defiant look in his eye. And then, in the copse, with that frightening, thrilling look of intensity. In her bunk. The light reflecting off his naked, tannedshoulders.

She felt a pang in her chest. Perhaps….she had been wrong about him, somehow?

She could almost hear the weight of his steps as she had watched him leave.

Jayne's warnings about Simon were still fresh in her mind however. And as she now looked fearfully across at her brother, she saw that he had regained that slightly greyish colour to his skin that time she had first set eyes on him after escaping the Academy. It was the colour he took on when he was worried.

"What is it, mei-mei," he asked, seeing her eyes begin to fill with tears.

"You have to go back. Back home." She murmured. "Go alone." And although she wished it for him, in her heart she longed for him to reassure her he would stay with her. Wherever she had to go.

He gripped her hand. "River. Wherever you go, I go. Whatever you are, it makes no difference. I still know that beneath it all – you're still my sister."


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, sorry to anyone who's depressed, but it's about to get a bit more upsetting and a bit violent because I gotta break Jayne's defences down. So without giving the game away to much, if you've ever suffered any type of familial abuse I suggest you bear that in mind before reading on.

* * *

"For gorram's sake, boy, I thought you were a ruttin' professional. This is not what I call professin'," barked Randall. 

Jayne stirred slightly from his slumber.His unclewas standing in the doorway of his dank, rented room, gun in hand, hat on head. He strode in, pulled back the curtains and looked out of the window. The mid-morning light bathed the room in a yellow glow - almost making it look attractive.

"Gorram it, Ran, I need t' rest," groaned Jayne from his bed. "I ain't be a' bed for more than three hours."

"So I hear," said Randall, in an icy tone. "D'you really think it's the wisest way for a man to carry hisself, getting' bust up on wood alcohol in this town? When there's no doubt already twenty men at least gunnin' for your head."

"Yeah, well when I wan' your opinion Ran - I'll ask fer it," came the reply. "I got things on my mind."

The old man's eye twitched in irritation. He turned and moved over to where Jayne was laying. He cocked his head and looked him over. Jayne was spreadeagled across the tiny bed, with little more than a grimy sheet covering him over. His feet were hanging well off the end.

"I remember you when you were a boy. You were a spry young thing," said Randall, his eyes scanning the merc's wide, muscular back.

He paused for a minute before adding: "But I kicked your ass then an' I'll do it agin. So get the hell up offa that pit 'cos we got that job to do. We're takin' that ruttin' Firefly for scrap, those pieces are worth a mint on the black market. Those ships jus' keep goin' and goin'. I'll be waitin' for ya at mine, on the hour."

And with that, he turned and strode back out of the room, his coat tails flying.

* * *

Later, Jayne wandered into Randall's as arranged. He looked around however, surprised to find the old man was a yet not there. So instead, he sat down heavily in one of the chairs in his front room, lowered Vera on his lap, and prepared to wait for a time. He growled. Jayne had a head on him like a bear. 

He realised he hadn't even started thinkin' about this job. Truth be told, he'd not thought too much about anythin' of late for the fact of his head already bein' full of all kinds of strange thoughts that, unlike any other time, he seemed unable to shake off.

Like that maybe he shouldn't been so quick with the gun that time.

"_You protect the man you're with -- you watch his back! Everybody knows that." _

Jayne reached up and rubbed his neck. He wasn't sure if hittin' on his old Captain was really sumthin' he felt like doin'. At least, until he felt a bit more like his ol' self. When all he had t' think about was when to eat and what to shoot at and which whorehouse was next on the horizon.

I mean, Mal had been pretty reasonable when he left him, he figured. The superior cows-ass had actually been pretty understandin' about lettin' him go what with Ran bein' his uncle an' all. Also, his mind flashed to the crew.

They were okay, the lot of 'em, more or less.

Kaylee was sweet as a nut. He'd never met no one so gorram upbeat and smily. He liked it.

Book was a preacher, so naturally fine – even if he did have a strange way about him.

Zoe and Inara stood their own ground. He din't care too much for Wash, on the grounds of him talkin' too much, but he flew well enough.

And the Doctor was stuck up - but at least useful.

And the girl.

In many ways, the most useful o' them all. A real surprise. Sweet as Kaylee but as mean as Zoe. Graceful, with big eyes that do all the talkin' you really need to know. And useful to have around when a gorram beast leaps out at you in the woods. Small enough to want to protect - but big enough to protect you right back.

The rest of the crew had no idea just how _original_ she really was, he thought. Especially that patronisin' brother o' hers. Of course,Jayne was still mad as hell at her for the words they'd had, but the way he was feelin' at the time he had a mind to agree with what she said.

He weren't no good.

He was smart with a gun, sure – but still a sommbitch. Accident or not, he'd done him in when the kid had just gone an' saved his ruttin' life.

No. The girl had been right. She'd seen right through him. Jus' like all those times before, like on Ariel. She could still be a mean-talkin little bitch - but a truthful one. It was time, he realised, that he faced up to it.

Well, maybe. He sighed. "I really gotta find me a beer."

Seconds after he spoke,he heard the squeak of door hinges. Expecting Randall to appear, he glanced into the door's direction – so was surprised to see it open only a few inches, and a small eye peer out.

As he looked on curiously, the door opened just an inch wider, and the one eye became two. Eyes, it turned out, that belonged to a young kid.

The kid looked at him with a strange expression. He had what Jayne easily recognised as beat bruises on his face. But there was sumthin' funny about his eyes. Like he wanted to speak but couldn't quite bring himsel' to say anything. But he looked ruttin' scared.

Jayne felt a shoot of pain go down his neck. Suddenly, he saw Lester's face. With the same expression. Standing across the other side of one of the clearings in that old authority woodland. Eyes that spoke to him.

_Don't tell no one. Don't say nuthin'. _

Jayne opened his mouth to speak to the boy. But just as he did, Randall swept into the room. The door slammed shut.

* * *

The merc swivelled his head round to his uncle. But Randall was lookin' across at the door in a suspicious way, as if he wasn't quite sure if he's seen it open. He then glanced at Jayne, guardedly. 

"What you jus' see?" he demanded.

"Jus' a kid. Belong to you?"

Randall regarded Jayne for a minute. He then said, simply: "Yeah."

"And?"

"And nuthin'. Now come on, and get your gorram gun. Mal's still in dock, so we're payin' him a visit."

Randall went to move towards the door. However, Jayne stayed put. He had a confused expression on face.

The old man stopped, and looked back over.

"What the hell is it? Are you comin' or not?"

Jayne carried on staring at the wall.

"Jayne?" Randall's voice rose with impatience. "We only got so much ruttin' time. I got five men outside who charge by the gorram hour and we're wastin' minutes."

Slowly, the merc rose to his feet.

He turned to Randall and gave a strange smile. But his eyes weren't smiling.

"Sure. Lead the way."

The old man looked at the merc for a second. And then he turned and swept out into the street. Jayne, hitching Vera onto his shoulders, followed.

They'd walked about a hundred yards, Jayne, Randall, and the five other henchmen in tow when the uncle stopped in his tracks. Around them, the streets were teeming with people. Almost naturally however passers-by moved out of their way,as if sensing their intent.

Randall turned to Jayne and asked: "You sure you're up to this?"

The merc jarred his head to one side, and cricked his neck. "Sure. I'm lookin' forward to it." Again though, when he spoke, his voice had a slightly menacing tone. "Havin' second thoughts yoursel'?"

"No."

"Good."

The pair then regarded each other for a moment.

Presently, Randall began to speak. "Why is it then, Jayne Cobb. I'm getting' some mighty strange vibes comin' from you right now?"

Jayne stared at his uncle. His jaw clenched.

"I don't rightly know, uncle." He spat the words.

Jayne then took a step towards the old man. Overhead, the sky started to darken.

"You're mad, ain'tcha," said Randall. "Mad at me for bringin' up the past."

"Oh no, sir, I ain't. In fact," said Jayne, stepping again closer to the old man. "I'm mighty pleased your brought up the whole subject,"

Randall shifted uncomfortably. He looked at Jayne. His face was set in a pale, resolute mask. Yet there were spots of water in his eyes.The five henchmen around him looked confused. They started to look at one another in alarm. This was mighty strange.

"Well, I don't know why. Seemed to me you were happier when you din't remember," said the old guy. And then, with steel in his voice; "It ain't every day a man remembers he killed an unarmed boy."

Jayne didn't flinch. He simply said, threateningly: "Yeah well - turns out that I remember a whole lot more about that gorram day."

Randall's hand snaked towards the laser rifle on his hip. As he did so, the first drops of rain started to fall from the sky. Somewhere, there was a low rumble of thunder.

"I'm jus' surprised that you don't," added Jayne, his voice cracking. "You evil. Godless. SOMMBITCH."

Randall's went for his rifle, just as Jayne – lunging forward with a movement both fluid and fast - slammed Vera's stock as hard as he could into the old man's face.


	15. Chapter 15

Mal stood on Serenity's ramp, and looked across the teeming vista of the docks, in the light, scudding rain. Time was runnin' out, he knew. Truth was, he didn't want to make a decision about the Tams no more than he wanted to leave Persephone and….Inara.

Inara?

Suddenly his eyes caught a glimpse of her in the crowd. His heart leapt. Her dark hair was flying loose around her head. She was running.

Running? Well that weren't too ladylike, he thought. And then, nervously….maybe she's…runnin for me…?

She was at the foot of the ramp now. She was carrying her long, lustrous skirts in her hands. But she'd lost her shoes. Her feet were muddy. She almost fell into him, gasping.

"Mal!" she cried. She grabbed his arms.

"Ina.." he started.

"You gotta come.," she continued. "Sumthin's _very_ wrong with Jayne."

For a second, Mal paused. She'd never looked so beautiful.

"Zoe!" he yelled.

* * *

Mal, Inara and Zoe arrived on the scene only minutes later. They had to fight through a gathered crowd, but when they did - they found Jayne and Randall wrestling in the mud, limbs flying. Punching, kicking and gouging.

Jayne's thigh was already smoking from a laser wound. He had also taken several injuries to the face. Randall's own face however was little more than a bloody pulp. Both had lost grip on their weapons. Vera was lying on her side, just out of reach.

The henchmen were stuck rigidly in place. They seemed unsure as to what to do.

Jayne rolled over on top of the old man and started punching him repeatedly in the head. Mal's face wrinkled in horror as he heard the crunch of bone. As Jayne's hand came up, he saw it was strained red to the wrist.

Mal turned to Zoe: "What the hell's goin' on?"

Zoe's mouth parted. "Not sure sir. But - " She gestured towards one of the henchmen, who had finally decided to raise his gun against Jayne.

Mal raised his. "Careful," he shouted. The man narrowed his eyes, but lowered his weapon.

Jayne brought a fist down, and let out a terrible, animalistic cry. "He was onl' a gorram BOY!"

The whole crowd shuddered.

The merc'seyes flickered. Images flashed through his head.

_He'd been running through the wood, pistol in hand. He'd stolen it from his pa. He'd had a plan to go shootin' birds to practise his aim.But as he went past the clearing he heard a noise. He stopped._

_He caught a glimpse of Lester's profile. Pleased, he went to call out. But there was another voice._

"You ruttin' piece of GOSA!" Crunch.

_Jayne peered around. His uncle Randall had been visiting that week. Both him and Lester were sitting on a fallen trunk._

"I weren't runnin' away from anythin' that day_….."_

_Lester seemed upset. Randall put an arm around the boy's shoulders. Lester shrank. But then he smiled, nervously._

_Jayne'd felt strange. _

"I was runnin' to – I was gonna tell 'em what you really were.."

_And then Lester had looked up. Caught his eye. Randall didn't see. Gave him that look. _

_Jayne'd pulled away. Retched. Started to run. _

"But he din't want me to. He din't want it." Jayne's voice cracked. He started to sob.

_Runnin' down the pathway. His hand on the pistol. Then footsteps right behind. Turning. Shoot. _

"You made me shoot him you bastard. _You_ made me."

_The afterwards, sitting. Mutterin. Cryin. I din't see. I didn't see nuthin'. I din't see nuthin.'_

"And now you're gonna DIE."

Jayne lunged across for Vera. However, just as he got a grip on her she slipped from his wet, bloody hands. Randall grabbed his chance, and rolled free.

Just before he reached for his own rifle however, he hesitated. Turning his mashed face to Jayne, he started to speak.

His words were muffled and slurred. But still no less vicious.

"I din't make you. You did it yoursel'. Why'd you think he was with me anyway. No one else gorram really cared for him."

He spat blood. "Yeah, he knew it. Not even his ruttin' so-called friend."

Jayne's hand finally grasped on Vera. He rolled on one side and caught the old man point blank in the head. Randall let out a wheeze - and died.

The crowd was deadly silent. A moment passed.

Jayne then fell back into the mud, and raised his eyes to the sky.


	16. Chapter 16

By the time Mal, Inara and Zoe had dragged him back to Serenity, Jayne had passed out. His chest wound had once again reopened slightly, but the main injury seemed to be from his leg, which was bleeding profusely.

The crew had been aware there was some kind of situation going on when Mal had yelled for Zoe. As a result, when they heard the low hiss of the cargo ramp being closed, they all –save for River - amassed in the hold to see what was happening.

Kaylee, on seeing Jayne's muddy, bruised body, immediately ranto tend his wounds. Jayne groaned softly at her touch. "What the hell happened?" she asked, her wide eyes looking up at the Captain. "He's sure beat up. I ain't never seen him so...bust"

Simon also knelt down next to the brute. He ripped open Jayne's cargo pants and shirt and started to assess the damage.

Mal replied: "I don't rightly know. Last time I saw him and his uncle they was thick as thieves. But I jus' saw them have one hell of a fallin' out. One whichfamily counsellin' sure won't be fixin' now, on account for one of 'em bein' dead. ButI have no idea why,and I ain't seen him so mad since, well, ever." His mind flashed back to Jayne's appearance in his room only days before. "And that's sayin' sumthin'"

Simon looked up. "Well, these wounds are actually fairly minor. He's been lucky. Nothing that a few stitches and some R&R won't fix."

"Between you and me, though, Doc," added Zoe, " I think the worst wounds he's got right now are in his head."

Wash stepped forward: "I take it then we got Jayne back again?"

Mal raised his eyebrows. "Well, I didn't really know where else to leave him. He jus' killed one of the major merchants in Persephone. If he didn't have enemies before, he sure does now."

As he spoke however he looked across at Inara. "So what I'm planning is, to jus' get into the black for a while and figure out what to do next. Wait 'til he wakes up. We've got enough credit for another week. Sumthin'll turn up."

"You got more than that," said Inara. "I'm coming too, Mal. If this has taught me one thing, you're just not fit to be left alone."

Mal looked down at the ground. He was relieved, ashamed, and worried ….but gosa, he was happy.

* * *

When Jayne finally reawoke, he was in his own bunk. For a second, he felt a wash of relief. And then, just a quickly, it left. He remembered. 

He closed his eyes, and moaned.

"You finally awake then?" Mal was sitting in the corner of his bunk, lookin' over Vera.

Jayne blinked. Mal. He moved his head to one side and peered out at the Captain's face through the swellin' around his eyes.

"Yeah." He said, dully. "But I gorram wish I weren't."

Mal's brow furrowed with concern. "Yeah. Well it was pretty obvious that something big kicked off between you and Randall. But then you ain't been right for a couple of weeks. Now, as you're on my boat right now, I wanna know why."

"You might wanna, but you ain't gonna," sighed Jayne. "Jus' leave it. Let me rest. When I'm fit. I'll be out of your way." As he spoke, Jayne closed his eyes again.

"Well, once you're up on your feet, what you do is what you do. But while you're layin' in one of my gorram bunks, you'll tell me what it is that got you flailin' in the mud like a gorram wild thing. I ain't ever seen you like that and I've seen you in plenty of dirty moods."

"Ain't a man allowed his secrets?" replied Jayne. But when he spoke, there was no defiance in his voice.

"Not when they're with me, no. So you tell me, soldier. How can I help you unless you do?"

"You can help me – " continued Jayne, " by bringin' me Vera and lettin' me blow my own gorram head off."

For a moment his words hung in the air. Mal's face meanwhile changed from one of mild concern to total seriousness. He stood up, and moved over to where the merc laid.

"Unfortunately, I don't intend to help you with that one," he said. "I've got all your guns locked away. But more's the question – what the hell are you doin' talking like that for anyway? Since when did you get self-pityin'? Self-centred and selfish yes, but self-pityin', no."

Mal hoped he sounded strong. But he had to admit it, this turn of events with Jayne had disturbed him. Jayne was the one you could normally rely on to be straightforward. Crass, occasionally ibicilic, but straightforward.

"When I realised that none of it's ruttin' worth it," came the dull reply.

"Don't say that," replied the Captain. "Jus' don't ever say that." But it was too late. Already, images of the fight at Serenity flashed into Mal's own head. The gunfire. The faces of his men, fixed in terror. The Alliance ships looming on the horizon.

The warmth he had inside since Inara's return, ebbed away.

"You don't get it, do you," said the merc. "I was on my way over to ruttin' steal this gorram boat. It was the plan. I always told you that if the money was good enough, things'll get interestin'. Well they did. But you still can't help yersel'. You still have to gorram pick up the pieces."

And with that, he turned over on his side to face the wall.

Mal felt a surge of anger. "You gorram ungrateful – " but he stopped himself. This was not the time.

Presently, he said: "Okay then, if you want out, you can go. But where're you gonna go exactly? "

Jayne was quiet for a moment. Then he replied: "Home."

His voice was barely discernable. "I wanna go home."

* * *

Mal had called the crew to a meeting in the galley. They were all there – even River. Mal had decided to come completely clean.He needed their thoughts. 

He began first by explaining the situation with River. As he did so, the girl tried hard not to catch anyone's eye. She couldn't bear their looks of guarded concern. Of mild suspicion.

All the same, she was relieved when they started to make suggestions about a solution. All of which, as far as she knew, Mal had already gone through. There were still only two solutions while she was on board - putting her to the test, to see if she really was a danger - or putting her under.

Simon had already been giving her a low sedative, she knew. It had the effect of making her sleep more. But she knew that really, to be effective, she needed a bigger dose. He was avoiding it however. Silly, thoughtful Simon.

"Ain't it kinda good though River's so useful?" Kaylee was saying, in her normal, optimistic way. " I mean Jayne's out for the count. Ain't it good at least we got River to look out for us if sumthin' comes our way?"

River looked up and gave Kaylee a small, grateful smile. Meanwhile, Simon reached across and squeezed her hand. I don't want to leave, thought River. These are my people.

"Well, in some ways, yes," Zoe replied. " But it ain't as easy as that. We know River is a good girl - but the thing is, there are things beyond her control that may actually harm rather than help us. We gotta take that on board...or not," she ended, weakly.

"Which is why – I've made a decision," said Mal, suddenly. "I'm gonna solve two problems in one."

Mal had already set a course for Jayne's home planet. It was almost three week's journey, all thing's goin' smoothly. But on the way there there was a small terraform which, he knew, had a secure safe house run by a few of the last remaining Independents. The safe house had a few prison cells. Isolation. It wasn't ideal, and it wasn't clean – but it was hidden from the Alliance, guarded by men he trusted, and tough enough to protect the girl from herself.

He wouldn't have had the money normally, of course. But Inara has insisted she pay towards the trip and for the set-up. And he had no choice if he was to protect the girl. He had realised he couldn't just let her go. Just like he had realised that despite the mercenary's deceitfulness, he couldn't leave him on his own - especially in his current state. Even if he had been plannin' to take the ship.

As he relayed this now to the crew, they looked on, accepting - but unconvinced. It still meant, he realised, a good ten days or so with River on board and still a risk. And more time out of doin' what they should be doin' – findin' jobs and makin' money.

But Mal had long since realised that since he had picked up the Tams, he was doing what inside himself, he always had to do. Pick up the pieces. And carry on.

"River'll stay mainly in her bunk all that time. If you want to see her, then you can, but for gorram's sake don't scare her or start wavin' any sharp objects on her direction. As for Jayne, I have no idea what he'll do, but I pretty much expect him to stay in his bunk as well. "

"He ain't in the most sociable mood."

* * *

River had accepted Mal's plan. Both her and Simon had realised, that in terms of where they stood right now, he was being generous. Him, and the Independent men who ran the house. 

Of course, Mal had just paid to set up the deal. The rent for the cell was going to have to come from Simon's pocket. But thankfully, the prison had no doctor. So as long as Simon helped out when required, things were going to be cheap.

Grim however, she knew. She was afraid of going back to being locked up again. The loneliness. She shuddered at the thought of the Academy. But she also knew that this plan would give Simon time. To find out more about her she could control her powers. So perhaps, in months to come, they could rejoin Serenity. It gave her hope, at least.

But of course, she realised, it wouldn't be the whole crew. She had heard Zoe and Mal pull his body on board. She'd sense the darkness that was now emanating from his bunk. Whatever he had been carrying, she realised, it was now within him. Like a disease. And one, she knew, that he had no will or expectation to recover from.

But where the darkness repelled others, it attracted her. And as she now crept towards his bunk, as the others slept, she knew she had to find out what it was that was causing it. And why, just like her, he was broken.


	17. Chapter 17

Jayne had left his bunk hatch unlocked. So when River placed her hand on the latch, it gave easily. She slipped inside, and gently lowered her feet to the floor.

His room was dark, but he had left a low light on in the corner. As a result, she could clearly see him laying on his bunk, on his front, his chest rising and falling in sleep. The light threw low shadows across his back, and down his arms, revealing both the curve of his muscles and the purplish bruises on his skin.

Once again she remembered the way he had stood in the hold that first night. He had stood so confidently, so strong - like a tree. And now, as he lay before her on his bunk, he looked like a totally different person. He was physically – and she could feel, emotionally - beaten out of recognition. She felt, once again, a pang in her chest.

The patterns she had used to sense from him had been so straightforward, so resolute. But now, she realised, there was nothing but confusion, doubt…and a deep sadness. It was as if that person she had known was no longer whole – but a shadow.

He was feeling, she realised, as she had when she had first arrived on Serenity. How she still felt sometimes - when dark memories drifted through her dreams. The only difference was, that his body currently described his inner feelings. Hers betrayed nothing of her inner self.

She felt a strong desire to touch him.

Slowly, she approached him. As she did so however, she realised he was naked beneath the thin sheet that laid over his body. But whereas before she had felt fear at his physical presence, at that moment she felt none. She knew he had no will to use his body against her, against anyone. He wasweary.

She wanted to run a hand across him, to ease the pain, raw in his mind. To soothe and return him to himself - as she had so often wished someone would for her. She felt a knot of emotion come to her throat.

Where was River Tam…? Partly within her, but also – still on the operating table.

She lowered her head and let the tears come. "They shot the tiger on his chain," she murmured, her voice trembling.

For a moment, there was only the sound of her quiet sobs, and the low hum of the ship's engine. But presently, a low growl came from the shadows. "Gorram it,"

River started, and stepped back. The voice continued: "If you're gonna bawl can't you do it quietly." His body stirred. Slowly, like a great beast getting up from rest, he rolled sluggishly over to his side. The light fell across his face, revealing the bruising around his cool, blue eyes.

For a moment, he regarded her with vague curiosity. But then, shrugging his shoulders, seemed to accept her presence. "Why yer cryin' anyway, I gorram don't know. I wouldn't thought you'da been happy as a drunk to see me like this. After our last words."

His eyes clouded over slightly. "Not sayin' that you were wrong some anyway. In fact, you wereright. Turns out I'm even more of a dumb sommbitch than even you could imagine. Even with all those brains o' yours." He gave a slow, heavy sigh.

River caught her breath between her sobs. She shook her head. "No. No sommbitch." she said, "You never told them. You never told them about me."

A bitter expression flashed across his face. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't take that too much to heart. It weren't ruttin' heroics. I had other things on my mind."

A quiet moment passed. She continued to watch him. This was a man who was around twenty years her senior. A man had spent his life killing, maiming, and on most occasions laughing about it later. Whose most intellectual thought had probably been about a gun.

But as he laid there now, she could feel his suffering for every moment. For every decision, and for every act. He had a new humility. She didn't know why – but to her, it didn't matter.

It was bizarre – but she had never felt closer to anyone in her life. Despite everything that he had said and done. She moved ever so slightly closer to him, reached out a hand, and laid it gently on his arm.

Almost as soon as she did so, his eyes flashed up to meet hers. But as he looked at her, she saw confliction in his features. Shock, caution, confusion, sadness. And then, as she started to stroke him - finally, understanding.

Her eyes stayed on his. She knew that at that moment she would be utterly unable to explain how she felt. The sympathy and empathy she felt for him as he lay there, beaten and broken. She just hoped her eyes could convey it.

"I thought we talked about the Jayne touchin'" he half-joked, but his voice trembled. At which point he suddenly looked away. She heard him exhale, like a man fighting to control himself. His shoulders gave a slight heave.

It was too much for River. She pulled back the sheet, crawled in beside him, and pressed her head against his chest.

The mercenary momentarily tensed, his breath quickening. But as she laid there, motionless save for the hand on his arm – he slowly began to relax.

No point questionin', he thought to himself. And gorram it, she feels nice.

So he laid his head back into her hair, and breathed.

* * *

It felt like the early hours when she awoke. 

The first sense she had was one of total calm. She felt him lying next to her - a man almost twice her size. But instead of scaring her, she felt totally secure. Strangely protected.

She let a sigh escape her lips. She knew that shortly she would have to return to her room, or Simon would come looking - but for the time being she simply wanted to be.

Presently however, Jayne's body stirred. He was still asleep, but had part-sensed her wakefulness. River watched in interest as he moved an arm across to pulled her closer, so her head was against his chest. He then lowered his hand to his stomach, and held her.

As he did so, her skirt rose ever so slightly above her knees.It was at that point she became very aware of her legs on his, and also of his shoulders - pressed against hers. There was also a smell - guns and cigars - but also, something else. Something pleasant, earthy. Him.

She looked down at the dark, powerful arm laying across her. She mused on how it contrasted sharply with the ivory white of her own skin. And then, with a surprise, she also became aware of a slow sensation that was developing in her lower belly. Just where his hand now lay.

To begin with, it felt like butterflies. But it was beginning to be more intense. It moved lower, and began to spread across upper thighs.

She bit her lip in surprise. This was new.

She suddenly felt very alert, and even more sensitive than normal. His skin, despite the scarring, was incredibly soft. He was also beautifully warm. Best of all however, his chest muscles and thighs were, she realised, pleasantly hard. Almost without knowing, she gently began to rub herself against him like a cat.

As she did so, she became aware of his fingers. He had started to stroke her gently, across her belly. His touch was pleasurable – but….she clenched her teeth. She realised, he was being almost too gentle. She was confused.

In her mind she began to feel waves. They were the same, she realised with a start, as those she had felt from Zoe's cabin. But the difference was that this time - the waves were coming from her. And, on a lower level, him.

Slowly the wave began tocombine. She felt as if she was being swept away. Almost without realising, she exhaled, put her hand over his, and pushed it slowly between her thighs.

Straight away she heard his breathing hoarsen and become shallower. She could also feel the beat of his heart through her shoulder blade. It was pumping, faster, louder. He was, she realised, suddenly very awake.

He gave a low growl, and pulled her even closer towards his body. She felt a thrill move through her as she felt a hardness in the small of her back. He then pushed his lips to her ear, and started to talk in a low voice, as he slowly massaged her upper thighs with the palm of his hand.

"I remember once," he murmured. " I told you I would never fuck you out of pity. It was a lie. But," he said, and his voice trembled, "It doesn't mean you have to do it to me."

She shuddered as he swore. That word - fuck - thathad seemed so brutal when he used it before, now seemed to her so vital. She had read about the biology of situations such as these in textbooks. But she had never experienced the actual feeling. It was much more – _complex_ than what she had read.

There was no question of pity. She began to move against him more urgently. Slowly, his fingers moved between her legs. She gasped, gently. And then, closing her eyes, she ran her hands down her body, and rolled to face him.

Her eyes searched for his. She held his gaze for a moment, as if to answer his question - and thenreached forward and pressed her lips against his neck. She opened her mouth, and ran her teeth and tongue across his skin.

Jayne didn't need any further encouragement. He exhaled, and rolled over on top of her, carrying his weight on his lower arms and knees. Again, his eyes locked into hers.

Only moments before, River had felt very little vitality in him. It had all been hidden beneath the darkness of his thoughts. It seemed however, that even at his lowest point, Jayne could not ignore the most basic needs of his body.

River was thrilled.

He opened his mouth to speak again. "This is your last chance." His voice was raspy. He pressed himself against her. "If you want to go, then go now. But don't expect me to stop once I start. Even if you could gorram well kill me now if you wanted. Because right now, I don't care. I don't care what happens to me. I'm beyond it. But I still want you."

His urgency both excited and, at a low level, frightened her. But not enough, she realised, to make her feel threatened. "I won't hurt you," he added. " I know better."

"And I," she replied, "won't hurt either." And then she hungrily reached up to kiss him.

Jayne opened his mouth in surprise as he felt her lips on his. Sex he dealt with – not this. But now, as he felt her breath on his face, and her small mouth leaning for his, he allowed himself to be taken. Hungrily, he replied. His tongue slipped against hers, and then, as he fell into it, he lowered himself onto one elbow, pulled her closer, and began to explore her mouth.

At the same time, his other hand slid gently along her lithe body, and pulled up her skirt. Smoothly, hepulled away her underwear. Meanwhile, she leant further forward into his kiss, placing both of her hands on his chest, enjoying the feel of his scars and muscles – and the hair between her fingers.

Try as she might however she could not ignore the feel of his hard shaft against her leg. His arm was now pushing her lower body against it, moving her gently up and down. With each movement, her skirt moved further up until eventually, it was around her waist. She shivered in anticipation as she felt it against her thigh.

In the back of her mind, she remembered the time. They only had so much. So she broke their kisses and leaned back, so she could once again look him in the eye. Wordlessly, he understood. He placed a hand on her haunches, held her against him, and then rolled them both so he was once again lying above her.

Jayne could hardly believe it. Before him lay the girl that had so annoyed him, drove him crazy, hurt him, confused him, been the start of all his troubles. But he wanted her all the same. And further, he wanted to make her happy. It was alien.

He watched her face as he manoeuvred himself against her, and then gently pushed inside. An initial look of shock passed over her features, and she tensed. But as her body reacted for her, he began to feel her relax again. He started to rock against her, slowly.

As soon as her felt her slide around him, he struggled against losing himself. His eyes rolled back into his head. Normally, he felt very much the predator in these situations. But as he was now moving inside her, he also felt her, somehow, move into him.

He felt the light touch of her hands, clasping onto his back. Her legs also raised and wrapped around his haunches. As she did so, he felt her open up beneath him. She pulled him closer, impatiently, with her thighs. He gasped. His eyes once again focused on hers. She was biting her lip, but her eyes spoke volumes. Don't be too gentle.

He waited a moment, enjoying the look of urgency in her eyes. Then, keeping his eyes on hers, he thrust into her more deeply. He exhaled a groan and he felt himself push against her cervix. She in turn pushed back her head and gave a cry.

He began to rock more rapidly against her, enjoying the way she had begun to writhe gently beneath him, her skirts rising higher and higher around her waist. Her skin was beginning to glow with the first flush of perspiration. Jayne allowed himself to balance on one arm, as he brought the other up to undo the light fabric of her top.

As he did so, she raised herself up on her elbows and again reached for his mouth with hers. As their lips met, she felt a shudder pass down his back. His damp palm reached inside and clasped around her breast. He began to massage, open handed -his fingers teasing her nipple. She exhaled, her lips mouthing his name.

His thrusts became faster still.

River's mind was a mass of pulsing, hot vibration. On one hand, she felt his – louder, deeper. And her own, moving in and around his. But as their bodies moved together, faster, she began to feel the waves move into synch. Also, as this happened, she began to feel Jayne's back shudder more frequently. In response, she felt herself begin to momentarily tighten around him. She knew they were both close.

She felt in another world. But at the same time, acutely sensitive of every feeling. Of his own damp chest sliding against hers. His shaft stiffening even more within her. And then, his thrusts becoming more erratic, as his body prepared to climax inside her.

Almost automatically, she felt him begin to pull away from her. But as he did so, she gripped him even closer with her thighs. He opened his eyes to look at her, in surprise. And then, Jayne's eyes rolled back into his head.

As she felt him pulse within her, she felt her own vibrations begin. She clasped her hands around the back of his neck, leant back her head, cand cried out his name.

* * *

Presently, she rose up from the bed, and turned to face him. He was lying on his back, covered in a thin film of sweat. His chest was still visibly rising and falling as he recovered his breath.

He saw her move, and reached out an arm."Ya goin' already?". His eyeslooked tired, but also, she noticed, both relieved - and vulnerable.

She reached down and smoothed down her skirts, and then up to rebutton her top. The she looked back as him with an expression she hoped showed her regret at her departure. "Simon," she said, in explanation.

As she spoke, however, she felt a thin trail of moisture run down her leg. Her eyes widened with the realisation of what had just happened. She felt both a rush of concern but also - excitement. Sherubbed her skirt against her thigh. Then she reached across, caught his lips with hers, and then turned to go.

"Yeah, well are you- " he began, but she was already moving towards the hatch. She gave him one, final look - but then was gone.

As the hatch closed, Jayne became suddenly aware of the emptiness of his room.

"- coming back?" he whispered, to the air.


	18. Chapter 18

Jayne laid back in his bunk and stared at the ceiling. He had been lying back in this manner for about two hours, listening to the boat wake up around him. He heard the sound of Wash, singing in the shower. Kaylee, banging about in the engine room, doing her normal routine checks.

It was the normal sounds he had heard a million times. But he no longer felt part of it.

He had felt very empty after she had left. As if he had been given something that had eased the pain in his neck, the dull throb in his chest - but then, it had been taken away. Momentarily, it had made things worse.

An hour afterwards he had struggled to hold himself in. Once again, he had burnt with shame as he held back tears as he thought back to the old man's dying words. Randall had said it clear as day. If only he had been more of a... friend...

It had set him off again on his normal spiral. He had hung over his washroom sink, holding on to the edge as the nausea returned.

_Did I shoot in mistake? Or..did I ruttin' mean it? Why did he gorram follow me anyway? What the hell is this….why'd he need the old man? That's disgustin'. Was it because….of…no, not me. But did I? Did I fail? Him. He must've been…alone. Gorram I wish I had Vera. Where is she…what the hell did he want from me anyway? I want the girl..…gorram sicko…lettin' an old man do that to him..gorram deserved it..Maybe I did want him dead. But how could I do that…why the hell did I do it._

_He was only a kid._

Round and round and round and round…..

It had only been the memory of River, moving under him, that had finally pulled him out of his stupor. Returned him again to equilibrium. He was now lying, recovering. His mind half fearing when he returned to the darkness, considering seeking out Vera – who still promised a more final, if terrible, relief.

His normal reaction on being emotionally unsettled - to get up, move around, shift some weights, shoot a gun, wind up the Doc, punch Wash, until he got back t'normal – somehow seemed to be the last thing he wanted now. There was no energy, no drive.

As he lay there now, he thought again of River.At least she had provided some comfort. And, he admitted, more than physically. He'd been grateful at how unafraid she had been. She had been as confident as a woman twice her age. And, he had to admit, just as…enthusiastic. But, also – very intense. At times, he had been lost in her eyes. It had been…good. More than good.

I was gorram stupid, though, he thought. And then, guiltily -I came in her.

But, then, he admitted, he had loved how she had demanded. How her legs had held him, with surprising strength.

Thank god for women, he reasoned.

His mind flicked to his mother. He hadn't seen her in twenty years.

He missed her.

* * *

River had her back up against the wall of her bunk. She rubbed the water from her hair, as she had done moments ago from her body. The shower had been warm, refreshing. But it hadn't returned her to herself. 

Wide eyed, she stopped momentarily as she remembered again the early morning. She had managed to creep back into the room just before Simon awoke. But she had been lucky. She knew that she had put her brother and her and Jayne at risk last night, betraying Mal's trust just when he had done so much to help. But she had had to see him.

She hadn't known why, but there had been such a pull. Curiosity? No, more. It had been more that had led her to lie with him. Somewhere along the line she had developed a connection to him. It had been a connection based on an ideal. A hope - that he was more than he appeared. A person she could connect with. And she had thought she had been wrong.

She had – but not as she thought. He had turned out to be _more_ than she had hoped - not less.

She desired him. The first flush of feeling at his touch had shocked her, but she had quickly given way to it. Allowed herself to be carried away be the feel of him, touch of him, that smell. The waves, their waves. She lowered her head and exhaled. Even the memory was creating tiny butterflies again in her stomach.

She couldn't decide what it was that excited her so. But she knew she had been unable to tap into her feelings until she had seen him beaten. Before – she had held him at arms length. He was too seemingly strong, too inaccessible. But while down, he had let her in.

It wasn't that she had enjoyed his vulnerability. It was that, when she had seen it, it had been enough for her to make the link. She empathised. Every time he had thrust against her, she had known he had gained strength from her, as she had from him.

The biology textbooks didn't talk about that, she reasoned.

She had wished she hadn't had to leave him. She already wanted to return. To connect again. It had been so long since she had felt anything so intimate…perhaps never. She longed for evening again.

She knew that they had only a short time together. She also knew that after this, she would be alone, save for Simon. She had no expectations for Jayne to follow her - he was treading another path. But somehow it made it even more vital to embrace whatever he could give her, and what they could share, without caution or fear.

There was hope for him, she realised. That was enough, wherever their paths now went. And, she sensed, she had somehow managed to bring him hope where before – there had been none.

* * *

"Jayne!" Mal's head loomed out of the ceiling, through his hatch. "You feelin' a bit more talkative today?" 

Jayne looked up. He had finally managed to pull on some clothes, but little else. He was staring absentmindedly at the wall, rubbing the stubble that was growing around his goatee. He was thinking of the girl.

Well, at least he got out of bed, reasoned Mal. It's a step. Though what the hell that expression is on his face I have no idea.

Slowly, the Captain manoeuvred himself down the ladder and into his room.

"You ain't comin' outa this pit at all?" he asked.

Jayne moved his head, sluggishly, to face him. "Nope. If you don't mind, I ain't feelin' quite my best right now." He tried to appear nonchalant, upbeat. Truth was, he was only just recovering from another bout of nerves.

I don't want the others to see, thought Jayne.

He already knew Mal had come to ask more questions. But he didn't want anyone's pity, least of all his. He would deal with it in his own way. Or not.

"We're just under three weeks from Montgom'ry," Mal announced, "That's the latest name for that hell-hole you call home, you gorram sore-head. But, in return, I need to know what problems you left back there in Persephone."

Mal moved towards the merc, and crossed his arms.

"If you won't tell me for you," he continued, "as yesterday you seemed mighty reluctant - at least tell me what I'll be facin' when I get back. My money says at least some gold-digger saw me drag your beaten cows-ass back on board, and figures they can pick up Randall's blood money."

Jayne looked at Mal as he stood before him. As normal, he had that look on his face of a man that wasn't about to take no for an answer. All the same, normally Jayne would have resisted. But somehow, now that he looked at Mal's face – he got a sudden urge to share.

Hell, it don't matter. I'm leavin' his crap-heel boat and this crap-heel life one way or another, he thought, dully. His mind flicked to River. But then, to Vera.

Jayne told him.

From the time back home, in Montgom'ry, to the gorram kid, to Randall. However – he din't tell him a word about how he felt. Facts was'all Mal was gettin', he decided. Ain't another man's business how he felt inside.

Mal sat, and listened. And as he did so, he found himself becoming more and more intrigued. However Jayne was dressing it up – and he knew he was – there was no avoiding it.

Jayne had killed the old man because of what he had done to this kid. Jayne hadn't been too clear about what that was, but the fact remained. Something had finally levered Jayne out of only thinkin' of himself.

"So," Jayne was ending, "Fact is that I've prob'ly caused you problems on Persephone. But in a way, you caused 'em yousel'. As I said, you shouldn't left me. Ain't no sense in puttin' yoursel' at –"

"Risk, Jayne?" interrupted Mal. "So you tell me than, what with your logic, that man-for-himself outlook – why did you turn that man's face concave with Vera's stock? Where's the 10 percent, Jayne? And if you're so gorram happy about everything, why are you holed up in here, and on your way back to a planet I ain't never heard you mention 'cept once in your life?"

Jayne clenched his jaw. "As I said before Mal, I still want outa this life. I ain't meant to be on a boat – with these people."

"Gosa," said Mal.

"What?"

"Gosa. And you know it. You know Jayne, I know you're a deceitful sommbitch but – turns out you're a shiny liar as well," said Mal. Jayne looked up at Mal's face. Despite his low mood, he couldn't help himself but to feel a flash of anger as his gorram superior tone.

"Careful Mal. I might be down but I can still gorram – "

"Quiet," said the Captain. "You knew about the girl's power. You must've when she saved your life from that gorram cat. So what I don't get, is why you never said nuthin' to me, when I figure you hate the gorram Tams. And also, why you killed a man who could've offered you the sort of work that a few weeks back you would've easily killed for."

Jayne's anger ebbed away as quickly as it had come. " Dunno. Can't a man –"

"Change his mind? No Jayne, not you. No." He paused. "Can't you see, you dumbass? What you've done is changed yoursel'."

For a moment Mal's words hung in the air.

He then continued: "You remember the time in the airlock? I meant to kill you. But then you showed me sumthin'. That you did care about the others, or at least what they thought. And it saved your life, you gorram ape. But after, I thought, it was a glitch. You played me. But now, I think I was wrong. I think that – you're actually kinda like –"

"What?" barked Jayne. Mal stepped back in alarm as the merc suddenly leapt to his feet. " I'm like what? Like you?"

Jayne's face had suddenly flushed red.

"If you believe that's true you're more of a gorram idiot that I thought you were. What I do is for my own reasons and I don't need you dressin it up into sumthin' it ain't."

He paused, momentarily. But Mal noticed a slight tremble in his voice when he added: "At the end of the day, I killed the kid, not that evil piece of gosa. So what does that make me Mal? Am I really like you? Am I.." he moved forward, and pushed Mal sharply in the ribs. " Am I really. Like. You?"

Mal slammed backwards into the wall. He raised his eyes and gave the merc a warning glare.

But he had seen enough as a solider to know what this was about.

I've caught a nerve, thought Mal. I've caught him.

"Okay," said Mal, "Okay. You told me what I wanted. So you get the deal."

He moved to go. It had been worth it. But it was time to leave.

So it was really no more than an aside when he added, " Montgom'ry's not such as distance anyway. And we've got to drop off the Tams."

"What?" said the merc. Malglanced at the sudden shock that came to the big man's face. Figures, he thought. He's prob'ly thinking there's an irony they go just as he does.

'Yeah, Jayne. Well, what did you expect? At the end of the day, she's a danger. We don't know, you see – what makes her work. Whether if by some accident she could just go off. Kill us all. So she's got to go. And of course, Simon."

Mal made a start up the ladder.

But Jayne reached out a hand, and held him on the knee.

"Well," he said, with a strange look on his face, "Where you takin' em?'

Mal paused, before replying: "There's a safe house in Bisonville. Run by some of mine. It won't be pretty but it's be secure." He gave the big man a half-guilty look. "They're gonna lock her up."

And with that, Mal rose up the ladder, leaving Jayne staring into space behing him.

I'll be back tomorrow, figured Mal., as he pushed open the hatch.I'm gonna get it out of him once and for all. Because I think he's making that change I never thought he could.

In which case, reasoned Mal, his place wasn't on some gorram weldin' town. He pulled himself through the opening, and closed it behind him.

It's with us, he decided. With me.


	19. Chapter 19

""Scuse me sir – but are you gorram mad?"

Zoe looked incredulously at her Captain. They were sitting in the galley finishing off the bottle of brandy as a mid-evening nightcap.

"Jayne ain't changin'," she continued. "He's just getting worse. Before, he was self-centred and selfish. Now he's gorram self-pityin' as well. From where I'm sitting', that's no improvement."

At which point, she picked up her glass, downed it, and set the tumbler back on the table with a bang.

Mal had been sitting back, peering at his fingernails, his face locked in an expression of annoyance. When Zoe had finished talking however, he lowered his hands and gave her a levelled glare. "Okay, well how do you explain not tellin' on the girl about her powers? Or killin' the old guy?"

Zoe shook her head. "Well, how about him not tellin' us about the girl when she may well be a threat? Or the fact he already admitted he was on his way with Randall to take Serenity? And what about lyin' over the cat? You gotta admit, there's just as many black as gold stars here."

Mal considered. As ever, Zoe was grounding him. And, he had to admit, she had a point.

"The thing is, sir," she added, "You look for the positive in him because somehow you can't face up to what he really is. A lyin', black, dog."

"No," replied Mal. " You're right in a way. We don't know exactly what's been in his mind, and he sure ain't no angel. But – I talked to him today, Zoe – not you. I've seen enough in my time to know when there's sumthin' goin' on. So have you."

"Yessir. But I also know we get things wrong. Look at Tracey, " came the reply. Mal's eyes locked into hers.

A moment passed.

Presently, Mal resumed, coolly: "Look, you're right to be concerned. But the fact remains that he's one of the best mercs around, and I want to keep him."

Zoe sighed, tipped back on her chair, and raised her legs onto the table.

After a while she said: "Sir, have you considered that maybe his best days are actually over? Seems from what you say he's havin' some guilt about how things have gone before. In which case, whose to say he's even gonna want to follow that path anymore?"

"Which is exactly why I gotta get it through his thick skull that whatever the hell he did weren't his beef, and within the next two weeks."

"But sir – how can you be sure it wasn't?" Zoe looked questioningly at Mal.

"What do you mean?"

Zoe reached for the brandy bottle, poured herself a new glass, and resumed drinking.

"Maybe he's feelin' guilty, because he has means to. We all like to give a man a break, sir, especially when he's down. But at the end of the day, you should know as well as any o' us, that just because a man feels bad he don't deserve what he gets."

She knocked back the last few dregs. "Jayne's done some bad things in his time, Captain. Maybe it's just desserts."

* * *

Jayne leaned his head over River's shoulder and gasped. She was propped up against the washboard in his bunk, her legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs. Her own head was tipped back, her eyes closed.Like him, she was catching her breath after the exertion.

It was the third time that night she had felt himcome within her.

She had once again managed to slip away from Simon – but unlike the night before, had appeared in his bunk with no plans to sleep away their time. Within seconds of arriving in his room, she had pressed her lips against his, and pushed him back onto his bunk. Her near frantic-energy had surprised and once again invigorated him. He had responded without question.

Just as her however, Jayne had also planned more for the evening. But, for the first time in his life,it involved conversation. As the girl uncoiled herself from him, dragging her eyes unwillingly from his own, he caught her arm and began to speak.

"When were you plannin' on mentionin' Bisonville?" he asked. He was surprised to hear his tone betrayed not only his vulnerability – which he knew, in his present state, was at times proving hard to conceal – but also took on a slightly accusatory tone.

River had heard it. Her eyes returned to his with a look which contained both shock and, he recognised, disappointment.

"Okay," he continued, " I guess I ain't given you much chance. It's jus' that Mal was in here earlier and said you're shippin' out in just over a week. I jus – I guess I jus' wanted to know…"

River raised her hands, and shrugged her shoulders in reply. "No choice. The blue hands control. Not River." she said, sadly.

He looked into her eyes for a moment, before turning away. Well, he considered, it ain't as if I was plannin' on getting' gorram married. But somehow, the thought of her being in that safe house – locked in a cell – would not leave him.

In fact – it really bothered.

"Why's that?" he asked. " I mean, ain't there no other way you can stay? Take some ruttin' drugs. Stay outa the way." But as he said it he knew it was impossible. He himself had come to the conclusion weeks back that Mal himself would be a fool to keep her on board if she had proved dangerous. Since then, he had seen with his own eyes that she was.

Jayne suddenly felt a surge of rage. Both at the thought of her, alone, in that cell. But also, for himself. The day had been a tough one. The thoughts had come and gone. The hope of her return had been the rock he had clung to.

Without her, there was only Vera.

He felt the panic rise in his chest. He blurted: "Well, why the hell are you here for anyway!"

River had patted over to the bunk where she had been planning to lie. To be with him for a few more hours, while she could. Stroke him. Perhaps, once more, slip around him.

But as she heard his tone, she turned on her heel and stared with wide, dark eyes. She had come to be with him, to help him. He had only just been inside her. She could still feel the heat within her, the reminder. And now, he was attacking?

She looked at him staring, his face locked in a bitter expression. He was naked, and his skin glowed with the flush of perspiration.

River was so shocked, she was amazed how clearly she snapped a reply. "You're leaving. You're going home. Why is it any different?"

Jayne grimaced.

"Because…you knew when my time was over. You never thought to gorram tell me."

Stop it, you ruttin' dambass, said a voice in his head.

But he continued, "What the hell am I gonna do for the next few weeks until I get home? Sit here on my gorram own again. With not even Vera for ruttin' company."

River could hardly believe it. Despite everything, he was still thinking of himself.

She felt the blood rush to her head as she angrily replied: "Is that all you can say? I'm about to gorram spend the foreseeable future in some cold cell on a stinkin' terraform. And you're thinking of yourself.'"

Jayne's eyes opened in surprise. "When the hell did you get comprehensive?" he asked. But all the same, he felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

River too, was questioning herself. She realised she had been so caught up in the experience of being with him, enjoying him – reaching him – she hadn't thought of telling him that their time was even shorter than expected.

Partly because she didn't think it would matter. But mainly - I didn't want to break the spell, she thought. To think of the end. Afterall, only moments before, they had been so close. He had whispered her name as he had reached his climax, his lips on hers as he had shuddered against her. But now, she felt as if an icy wind had passed between them.

It was too late, she realised. It was already broken.

Slowly, the tears appeared in her eyes.

Jayne looked at her with horror.

"Gorram it, stop that," he barked. "Ain't no point cryin' about it,"

And then, as she continued to sob - more softly: "Look, I'm a dumbass. I'm sick in the head and feelin' like a kicked dog."

However, River had had enough. She picked up her clothes, and went to pull them on.

Jayne's eyes flashed. " Oh no you don't," he said.

And before she could move an inch, he strode towards her, grabbed her, and pulled her to his lips. She felt a new urgency from him as his tongue reached for hers, and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

It was a few seconds before she realised. It was desperation.


	20. Chapter 20

River realised that yet again, for all her efforts, she had misunderstood. She had felt such warmth, such connection when she had thought she had been helping soothe him. But in doing that, she had in ways made it worse. It had been like offering water to a thirsty man – then snatching it away. No wonder he'd acted like a child.

She was once again holed up in her cabin. And as she lay, face down on her bed, she allowed her mind to return to the night before. When he had grabbed her so desperately, she had felt herself waver again at his vulnerability - despite his outburst. That, coupled with the damp, hardness of his body – had been too much. She had responded. But as he had later moved within her again, she had felt confliction.

She wanted him – so much. But was it right?

He had also sensed her reticence. For the first time, after she had come, he had simply pulled away. As if he knew that – this time – she didn't want him in her. When she had left, he had looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes. She had watched his jaw clench as she reached for the hatch.

Up until that point, she had felt almost accepting of the future that now lay before her. His memory was to have warmed her on those nights locked inside. Away from anyone who may threaten her. Touch her. But now, she felt afraid at the prospect. Whereas for two days she had felt so close to him – and she had thought, him to her – now she felt once more if he were a stranger. Perhaps a man can only change so much, she reasoned. At his heart – he does remain the same. His image just shifts.

At that point, she felt a flash of worry – she had been stupid. She had lowered her defences to the point that she had loved him freely. There had been nothing between them when he had been inside her. At the time it had seemed so right.

She pushed the thought aside.

Desperately, she began to reach out for the reasons why she had opened herself to him so readily. He had protected her from Mal. He had kept her secret. But he himself hadsuggested thathe had had his own reasons why.

There had been those times he had talked to her as an individual. When no one else would, when he had first handed her that pistol, those weeks ago. Could that really only just been part of a plot to get rid of her? She had been sure it had been more – but maybe…

Most of all though, she had reached out to him because he had so obviously suffered. She wanted to help him, to grow, to cope. Be better. But she rushed to empathise – without realising that, while she accepted her failures, he seemed to be railing against his. She had simply been a comfort at a time of confusion.

But the saddest realisation came, when she admitted to herself - she had just begun to love him.

She wept bitter tears into her hair, as she lay alone, later that night. Could he ever do anything that was singularly just about another person?

If only he would just do something – that made his feelings clear.

* * *

Mal was in the galley in the early hours - when the mercenary wandered in. As had been the case more regularly lately, Mal was unable to sleep. Thoughts of Inara were becoming harder to cope with. He was wondering if they should – talk.

He was thinking about this very subject when Jayne stepped into the galley, his face drawn, and with an expression like thunder.

Immediately, Mal felt a flash of annoyance pass through him. It had only been twenty four hours since his and Jayne's last conversation, but his time with Zoe had made him re-evaluate his thoughts.

He still felt as if he had touched Jayne's sore spot when he had been questioning his feelings. Jayne obviously did not see himself as any type of hero for killing Randall. But all the same the questioned remained – why not? Did he kill Randall for what he had done to the boy, or did he kill him because Randall knew something more? Was it burgeoning self-realisation that was laying Jayne so low, or simple self-pity?

He had hoped and believed he had seen the beginnings of change in Jayne's eyes. But Zoe's words had cautioned him. And Mal was now feeling disappointed, and angry. He had started to believe. If Jayne could change, anything could happen. Maybe – there was hope for the gorram world.

It had been a hope too fragile to dare consider. So he was now feelin' mighty angry that Jayne had caused him to have it at all, when it might've been premature.

Jayne had come in to get some air. Earlier, there had been a bad attack of nerves that had left him holding onto the washboard for close on dear life. He was getting no further with his thoughts about the boy. He still had no idea what had truly driven him to shoot that day. The pain in his neck had returned.

But then afterwards, there had been even more - but this time about her. The panic had risen again in his chest as he had fretted whether she would come back to him that night. The hours had passed, and it had become unbearable, waitin' for the sound of her feet on the stairs.

So as it was, Jayne was in no mood for a chat. But when he saw his Captain look at him, out of the corner of his eye, he knew he was gonna have one anyway. He pushed his vulnerabilities aside and prepared for the inevitable.

"Look," started Mal, "The bottom line is that I want you to stay on board,"

Jayne breathed as he steadied himself, before grunting : "Well, that's shiny for you. Because I ain't." He reached for the water can and took a slug. He couldn't admit to Mal just how badly he needed to feel some kind of sense ofroots right now. For the first time for over two decades, he longed to feel his mother's hand in his hair.

Mal flashed him a look. Gorram. Maybe Zoe was right. Still so defensive. Angry.

"Which don't make no sense, Jayne. You've spent a life travellin' and makin' it on your own, and then you get an urge to go make house in a ruttin' Montgom'ry? What are you gonna do there anyway - make candelabra?"

Jayne gave him a look. "I got things to do there. And anyways, I don't think there's anyone whose gonna miss me." A pang again as he thought of River. Those long legs had been so comforting, wrapped around him. But he had blown it. Like he couldn't help himself. Just like Lester.

Mal glared. Self-pityin' piece of gosa, he thought. "Well, maybe you are right. Afterall, it ain't as if any of us can trust you. Ain't as if you belong _here_." he snapped. Jayne turned and looked at him.

Superior cows-ass, he thought. "No sir. I guess I don't."

Mal slammed his hand on the table. That was it.

"C'mon then. In which case we got no means to be polite. Why exactly did you kill the boy Jayne? Was it an accident? Or did you really mean to shoot him? Afterall, it ain't right what he did."

Jayne's eye widened in surprise. "I.." he began.

"And what about Randall, Jayne? You kill him for the boy, or really for yoursel'? Feelin' bad, about what you did? I mean, I guess you have got a world of things to feel bad about." Mal stood up and walked towards the man.

His features hardened. "Yesterday I was so gorram certain you were beginnin' to be a better man. But now I ain't so sure. And I ain't so sure I want to be let down. Or havin' to put up with you, you deceitful dog who ain't never gonna watch my back."

'What d'you mean?" replied the mercenary. He began to feel the familiar circle of thoughts return to his mind.

"When I saw you kill that ruttin' old bastard," started Mal, "I felt for you. I really did. I ain't never seen you such a gorram mess. But then, I started to think. Jus' 'cos a man's down don't mean he's worthy of sympathy. It's what he does afterward with what laid him low, that grants him that. And so far I ain't seen much evidence of change with you. You're still selfish, ungrateful, closed. Is it because you don't understand the concept of trust? Friendship? Or is it because you just ain't interested? Maybe because you know you deserve the ruttin' pain?"

Mal was himself surprised at the words he was speaking. He had, he realised, just overstepped a mark. Opened himself up.

But the words just kept coming.

"I seen better men that you die, you know Jayne. On Serenity I had to pile 'em up with my bare hands. They were men who had done wrong. But they'd accepted it, moved on. Tried again to be better. Do the right thing. So why is it that good men like that die, and I'm left with men like you? Men who ain't got a gorram clue when they've got sumthin' worth hangin' on to, like - this, " he gestured to the ship – "and jus' thrown it away because they ain't got the cojones to carry on. Make somethin' of themselves. Somethin' out of what's left."

Jayne had been listening, his face slowly growing darker still at Mal's words. But now he turned to reply.

"This is bout me givin' up?" he asked, "Or is it about the fact that you can't? Or won't?" The big man moved slightly closer to Mal. "This is your thing, Mal. This ship. Everyone. It ain't mine. So don't try and make me part of somethin' that maybe I don't want to be a part of. Just because you can't gorram well lay yourself down somewhere and accept you lost the gorram war.'

Mal snorted. "I accepted it. I jus' don't think that means I have to live in that world they've created. It ain't my world. Serenity is. The crew –"

"Gosa," snapped Jayne. "You're jus' too ruttin' scared to admit you love the whore. This is all a cover."

At which point Mal's mouth fell open in surprise. He then stepped forward, and threw a fist at Jayne's face. The merc stepped back, avoiding the blow. But then Mal raised a leg and kicked him between the legs. Jayne wheezed in pain, shuddered, and fell to his knees. He placed his hands over his groin and roared.

"You ruttin' pig-dog!" The pain shot through him like a electrical shock. But as it did so, the merc suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. The lid he had been keeping so clearly held down on his feelings was threatening to blow.

Mal looked down, in surprise.

Jayne swallowed hard, but his voice broke:"You ruttin' piece of cows-ass. You wanna kill me, then gorram do it! I don't care anyway. I don't give a gorram _fuck_ about any of it. Because you're right. I dunno if I shot the kid deliberate or not. Maybe I did want him dead,"

Jayne was now full out sobbing."The stupid dumbass ran after me. I threw up. He was supposed to be the smart one. What the hell was he doin' with the ol' bastard anyway. It din't seem right. I was angry. Maybe I did kill him. Maybe I did." He looked up at Mal, his eyes red.

"Is that what you wanna hear? It ain't is it. You want me to say I din't kill him. It was an accident. That I'm a good guy really. Like you. That the world's okay. But I don't _know. _Just like I don't know I if killed the old man for him or for me. Because he was right. I did let the boy down. He was my friend. But I wasn't _his_."

"I wish I did know what and why I did," he continued. "Because then maybe these gorram words'll jus' get out of my head and I can go back to bein' what I was before. I _hate_ this."

And then he raised his hands to his head, and leant forward, shivering.

For a moment Mal stood over him, in shock. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. He had seen Jayne angry, low, self-pityin', confused… but he ain't ever seen him gorram cry. It had seemed – wrong. It had also disturbed him. Jayne's voice had strained with every word, with the desperation of a man, utterly lost.

Mal felt conflicted. He knew that Jayne had been honest. He didn't know what he had done or why. But although it had helped, him admitting it – the question remained. How could anyone know ifJayne wastrustworthy, if the man himself couldn't tell?

Presently, Mal put a hand on the merc's shoulder.

"Jayne,' he said, in a quiet voice.

"It's okay. I'm takin' you home."

* * *

Later, Jayne sat back in his cabin, his head in his hands. Beside him lay the laser pistol he had pulled out of Mal's holster when the guy had helped pull him up. He was wondering what to do with it.

Mal hadn't noticed it had gone, but it wouldn't be long. He had to make a decision.

She wanted someone who could be sensitive. Adult.

He wasn't sure if he could be thatstrong.

Mal wanted someone to rely on. Watch his back.

"But I don't know if I got it in me to be no different," he mumbled, into his hands.

But he did know the time had come to find out. Slowly, he pulled back his head, reached out and arm,laid his hand on the pistol - and wrapped his fingers around the stock.

'Come on, baby," he said, his voice trembling, "Let's see what this man's made of."


	21. Chapter 21

River lay back in the surgery chair, rolled up her sleeve, and squeezed her eyes together. She hated this room. The look and smell of it reminded her of times past. It also meant Simon was about to stick another needle in her. She hated needles.

She looked across at her brother as he now readied himself to give her another low dose sedative. He was talking to her absent-mindedly, as he filled the hyperdermic. He flicked it, and turned towards her.

He proffered her the needle. "Now take it," he said. She grimaced. "You know you have to do it yourself," he continued, "afterall I can't be sure how you might react."

She looked across at him and lowered her eyes. Ever since everyone had found out about her powers, this is how it had been. Everyone treating her with kid gloves. Walking around her like she was a bomb about to go off.

Except for Jayne.

She felt the sadness rise in her throat as she thought of him. It was no good, however, she realised.

She took the needle from Simon and prepared to press it into her arm.

Just as she did so however - she suddenly sensed an intense wash of feeling, that seemed to fill the room. She glanced across at Simon, who was now looking at her quizzically. "River? What is it?"

She ignored him, focusing instead on the emotion that was now almost throbbing in her ears. It was fear - intense, and directed.

As the realisation came to her, she also heard boots in the corridor outside, coming closer. Each step sounded like a deep, resonant drum beat. It vibrated in her chest.

Simon watched in shock as she dropped the needle. She then let out a long, high pitched scream.

Jayne was already standing in the doorway. He had the laser pistol aimed directly at her head. His arm was shaking.

"River," he said, in a strange voice, "Is it time to die?"

* * *

Normally River's world was a mass of confliction. She saw solid forms, such as floors and tables, but sometimes she saw images that she knew were illusion. Butterflies. Tree roots. 

However, as he stood before her now, she felt the normal world around her tune out. It was happening, just as before. She felt her mind slip into a tunnel. Her eyes rolled briefly in her head. When they stopped, all she could see were a stream of mathematical formulae floating in the dark. But there were also distances, trajectories, calculations of force.

All of this happened in milliseconds. And while it did, her body moved. She quickly flicked herself into a standing position, and then launched herself at Jayne with inhuman strength.

Simon had just been standing, open mouthed, watching events unfold. But as soon as she went for the mercenary, he let out a terrible yell.

Jayne watched dreamily as she came at her, his fingers laid loosely on the trigger. He knew he had no intention of shooting. Her fingers reached out and grasped him round the neck. She squeezed, hard, as they both tumbled out into the corridor.

Once outside, Jayne landed heavily on his back. She meanwhile flew over him, but circled gracefully in the air and landed on her boots. He started to his feet, but she quickly kicked his pistol away, and then viciously stuck him twice in the side of the face with the edge of her heel.

Jayne's head juddered to one side, flecks of blood forming on his lips. However he rapidly moved himself away, and regained his footing. He turned to directly face her.

"River," he said, in a trembling voice. "It's me."

River stepped towards him, and assumed a defensive position. Jayne looked at her stance. Wushu, he thought. Gosa. He looked into her eyes. They were expressionless. Was she there at all?

Jayne felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "River," he said again, a note of panic in his voice. "River, it's Jayne."

Momentarily, a small flicker of light passed over her face. River herself was peering into the mass of figures that were moving across her vision. But as his voice she saw a small window open up in front of her. She saw Jayne's face. It was bleeding.

"Mei-mei," she murmured. Her eyes widened. He saw her features momentarily soften.

However, then she heard a clattering of shoes. Looking up, she saw Mal and Zoe also appear in the window, running down the corridor towards them. She saw no more than a glimpse however, as the window then abruptly shut. A new formulae moved into its place.

Jayne looked again at her face. The light had passed. She lowered herself like a cat to the ground, and waited for his move.

Mal's boots landed on the floor, as he pulled himself up alongside the mercenary. "Okay Jayne," he gasped, as he regained his breath: "You wanna tell me what the hell you've done?"

Jayne continued to stare at the girl. Her eyes were flicking around the room, as she calculated her next attack. Her body was rigid, tense.

Presently, he whispered: "I had to see," Mal noted the desolation in his voice. "But I think – she's really – gone."

"Yeah, and now – thanks to you – so are we," snapped the Captain. He went for his gun. Beside him, Zoe did likewise. Simon looked on in horror.

"No." Jayne put out a hand to stop Mal. River's eyes had stopped shifting, and had once again settled on him. "I started it. So she's coming for me."

At which point, with amazing speed, River gracefully leapt into the air, and brought a booted kick once again into the side of Jayne's head. As he staggered back, she flicked over backwards, her skirts flying, and grasped the pistol from the floor. Just as quickly, the righted herself, brought the gun up, and aimed. Her facewas one ofterrible determination.

Jayne's arm went out as he pushed Mal aside. He closed his eyes, and waited.

River meanwhile, had seen his face. And now, inside her dark cage, she was fighting to return. As a result, as her body's fingers now went to squeeze the trigger, they hesitated. There was something wrong.

Inside herself, River struggled. She felt the terrible resolution of part of her mind. Kill, it demanded. But then there was herself, the true River. Willing against it. Focusing every energy available on imagining Jayne's face and body. Reaching inside herself for the feelings she had for him. The reminder of his skin on hers. His lips on her lips.

Outside, Mal, Zoe and Simon watched with baited breath. Jayne meanwhile, had opened one eye. He could sense the confliction.

River's arm had started to tremble. She had also started to talk to herself. Much of it was incoherent, save for a few words. "Wrong, wrong, wrong,' she murmured. "I am more than you, blue hands. More than you."

Slowly, her finger started to pull away from the trigger.

But then her voice changed. "You have currently 2.3 seconds to react or assailant will gain the advantage," she said, in a monotone. Her finger once again shifted back. But she remained motionless.

Jayne, meanwhile, was now looking directly at her. That face, that had gazed upon him so many times, was paler than he had ever seen. Her forehead was covered with a light sheen of sweat. She was struggling. He felt a protective pang surge through his being.

Nervously, he blurted. "River. If ya shoot me now - remember this weren't your fault. But at least you tried. You see, you gotta fight it, you gorram beautiful moonbrain. Control it. And if this time you ain't got it, next time you will. You can win."

Mal, Zoe and Simon looked across at Jayne in surprise.

River's eyes glowed into life at his voice. Her arm was still up, the gun still aimed. But she was there again, he could see. "Jayne..?" she replied. Her voice trembled. "I can't…"

The gun shuddered precariously in her grasp.

"Y'are already," he replied, and then softer still: "Y'already winning. Now jus' come back. You see - I had to know. You don't need to go to that gorram jail no more. Those ruttin' men don't own you. You can be anythin' you gorram want. Y'ain't like me. You're better."

He stepped forward, slowly, and held out hand. "Sorry I screwed things up so much for ya. Sorry for anythin' I did. I jus' have the habit," he ended, weakly. "But you don't need to be a screw-up. Not if you don't want."

It was enough. River opened her hands, and let the gun fall from her fingers. She looked straight at the mercenary, her eyes full of fear and relief, before collapsing to the ground in a dead faint.

Simon immediately rushed to her side. Mal and Zoe stared at Jayne, open mouthed. Jayne lowered his shoulders and breathed.

A moment passed - and then Zoe moved to speak.

"Well, you sure have a way with the ladies," she said.


	22. Chapter 22

River laid back on the surgery chair and breathed. Around her, Simon flustered, flashing lights into her eyes, attaching monitors to her arms.

Mal and Zoe also stood alongside, talking in low tones. Kaylee was holding her hand. Book was sitting on the side, watching concernedly. Even Wash was there, cracking the occasional joke.

River smiled inside. They were worried about her. But she knew, that they had nothing to be worried about. Physically, she was fine. In fact, inside, she felt like singing.

Jayne had proved it. He had done the thing she couldn't have asked of anyone – put himself at risk to prove her true abilities. And that, she was capable of controlling the beast the blue hands placed inside her head.

She wasn't the old River, she knew that. But now - that seemed fine. She was a new River Tam, with new skills and new problems – but finally, in control of her own destiny.

She was looking through the glass window outside to the corridor. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there, watching her. And later, she would find him, and thank him for what he had done. It had been all she needed to know.

She wanted to find him, hold him, stroke his shoulders, feel his fingers dig into her back. But she also wanted to tell him how she felt, and all the things she wanted. That she hoped he wanted too.

* * *

Later, when Simon admitted, with relief palpable in his eyes that she was okay - she found Jayne in the hold. Mal had given her leave to walk the ship again. Naturally, the trip to Bisonville had been cancelled – she had proved she was no danger to those she cared for.

Of course, those who she didn't care for still posed a problem. But, as Mal had laughed, that was a benefit. And River found she had no guilt at the idea of destroying those who threatened her and the crew. Blue hands. Alliance. It was fair game.

Jayne was standing, with Mal, in the base of the hold. They two men were passing cargo trunks between them, and stacking them under the stairs. River crept closer, and lowered herself to listen to their conversation.

She longed for Mal to leave. She looked at Jayne, as he moved. The bruises around his face were healing. His arms flexed as he reached and lowered.

"So," Mal was saying, "Are you gonna tell me what the gosa that was all about, or do I have to kick you in the man-parts again?"

Jayne glanced across at his Captain. He shrugged. "Well, you could try, but I'd have to break your leg, you superior cows-ass." There was a hint, however, of a smile on his face.

Mal nodded, and rolled his eyes. But the he continued to stand, with an expectant look on his face. Jayne looked again at him. He realised that Mal really did want to know.

Sighing, Jayne lowered the trunk he was carrying to the floor, and turned to face him.

"Truth is, I dunno," he said. "I jus' figured that if I can't figure out what happened with Lester, I should figure out what I might've done now if I were in the same boat. See if I was cap'ble of doin' something….decent. And not screw it up this time."

"She could'a gorram killed you."

"Yeah. But I also figured that that was a risk worth takin'. I din't use to believe in no fate. But if a man is due to die he is. So I also figured that as well as helpin' the poor mite stay outa that hell-hole, I figured I might as well find out if it was my time. Figures that someone up there says today at least, it ain't."

Mal looked at the merc, incredulously. Jayne caught his look and grimaced.

"Don't think that means I ain't still a mean sommbitch though," he added, defensively. "I figured it prob'ly useful anyway that you have the girl stay on board. She's meaner'an me with a gorram gun anyway, and twice as fast. She'll do you well as a replacement, as long as that over-protective gorram brother o' hers lets her do her thing."

At which point, Jayne leant forward to again pick up the trunk.

Mal smiled….but then, cocked his head quizzically.

"Hey, hang on. I take it you don't wanna go home now though? I mean, seems like that bust up with River had helped you put a few things to rest."

Jayne turned his head and eyed the Captain. "Yeah, it did. I figure that I can at least do the odd decent thing. But it don't change the bare facts that I still have no idea when or why. And although it's helped me understand that perhaps I ain't all bad, I still ain't feelin' like pickin' up Vera and doin' the normal 9-to-5. I ain't sure what I wanna do. Or with – " he paused. "I just wanna go home," he ended, lamely.

Upstairs, River brought her hands to her mouth.

Mal's brow furrowed. "Jayne, I gotta say as much as I like your attempts at emotional growth – I got a gorram boat to protect here! And I pay you to look after it and do a ruttin' job! You're a ruttin' merc, and this is you gorram home."

"No, Mal, it ain't."

Jayne stopped moving, and stepped closer to the man. " Mal, you see - I dunno if I am a merc no more. And is this home? I dunno. I can't just figure things out overnight. I need a bit o' time. It's like when the thing happened with the boy, a whole part of me jus' stopped growin'. Only the mean parts. And as much as I still love my gorram mean parts, turns out that I ain't too happy unless the rest o' me is grown too. Am I makin' sense?"

"Kind of," said Mal.

"I still have to try and figure out what I did back there on Montgom'ry and why. But also, if I can't I gotta figure out whether I can really live with it, and carry on the way I do. If the thing with the girl had taught me anythin', that I may have hope afterall. To be a better man, if still a dumbass. But I gotta figure out whether I wanna be that man, or whether I'll be happier doin' sumthin' else. Bein' somewhere else. Do y'understand?"

"You're bein' to darn hard on yersel'," said Mal. "I never thought I'd ever say this, but you need t' give yousel' a break."

"Which is what I'm gonna do. So take me back, Mal, and let me be. If I'm meant to carry on, I'll be back."

"I still think you're bein' dumb," said Mal. He knew that he sounded childish.

'Well, that's okay," replied Jayne, and shrugged. "I don't mean this hard, but don't give a damn anyway."

At which point, Jayne went to walk away.

Mal gritted his teeth, before calling after him.

"Wait! I also meant to ask you – the thing with the girl. It don't make sense to me why you were so sweet on her back there. Why the hell out of all the people in the world she mightn' not have killed, it would be you. Unless you ain't be 100 percenttruthful wi' me about the reasons behind that gun practice.'

Jayne turned on his heel and faced him. "I was jus' bein' soft on her," he said nonchalantly. "It wouldn't have made sense to be anythin' less, afterall I was tryin' to stay alive, as it turned out. As for her, well I guess she's sweet on me or sumthin'. She's only a girl afterall. And I know I got fine looks."

He smiled weakly, but as he spoke, he moved his eyes to the floor. I ain't goin' to let Mal see the truth, he thought to himself. He don't need to know that I gorram love her. Afterall, it don't make no difference anyway. I can't give her nuthin' right now.

Upstairs however, River only heard his words. She didn't see his eyes, that spoke volumes about the conflict that was raging within him.

All she knew was that after all that had happened – he was still leaving. The crew, the ship.

And her.


	23. Chapter 23

The next ten or so days on the way to Montgom'ry passed in a haze.

After River had heard Jayne's words, she had been desperate to speak to him. She had assumed that he would stay. His actions had been of man who cared. So why was heset to leave?

It must be because he doesn't realise how I feel for him, she thought. So she actively sought him out. To tell him.

Yet, within a few days, it became clear - it was more. He was, she realised, actually avoiding her. When she walked in a room, he walked out. She was sure the others must have noticed, but to them, of course, nothing had ever really changed. Jayne had told them so many times what an annoyance she was to him. Why should he _stop_ ignoring her?

But she, and of course he, knew otherwise. She had felt him on that final time together, how desperately he had clung to her. It had been partly his low emotional state. But it was also, she just _knew_, much more. Afterall, he had come for her, faced her, saved her. Shown her what she could do.

And those times when they were together. She knew he had never been with a woman like that. He had been with many, but she knew that he had never – engaged with a person like that before. Before, it had been two people. Seperate. But she had sensed it. When he had moved inside her, there had been less…seperateness. Like home.

River found her feelings see-sawing between anxiety, confusion, and anger. His silence of course made it even worse. That, and the fact that she had to keep her true feelings in check, even in front of Simon. He, like the rest of the crew, expected her to be happy. Afterall, had she just not found out that she could control what she was? Not to mention been saved from being locked up in a filthy cell in the dusty, barren terraform?

Finally, however, about a week out of port, she cornered him.

He had taken to doing a lot of weights again, normally at dinner times – once again, out of her way. But one evening she managed to bow out of eating before he was finished.

He was lying on his back, lifting. As a result, he failed to see her fly silently down the stairs towards him, her dress around her ankles.

As she reached the floor, he looked up. She was standing opposite, her face a mixture of rage and desperation. "Hello," she said, bitterly.

His face fell. She felt a sharp pain go through her chest.

Then he looked guiltily at her, shifted the weights back to their stand, and lifted himself up. He was wearing a red shirt which, River noticed, was straining across his chest muscles. His arms were pumped up, so she could see veins over his biceps. He also had a slight flush from exertion, which reminded her of the way he looked like he had that final time before, in his bunk. Just after he had shuddered against her, dragged his teeth and lips on her neck. And just before he had grabbed her arm, pulled him towards her with a force made of pure emotion, and kissed her so hard she had lost the feeling in her lips.

At the memory, she felt the frustration form on her features. But when she spoke again, it was with a softness that betrayed her.

"He's a feather in the wind. Soft to look at, hard to catch," she said, her voice trembling.

He briefly caught her eye, before looking away.

"I guess I ain't been too straightforward," he sighed. "I din't mean to give you a scare before, what with th'whole gun thing. But I figured you'd handle it some. Well, hoped." He glanced at her, nervously. "And you did some, too. Boy, you're sumthin'. But you're safe now, and that's the best. You're okay," he ended. But there was hesitation in his voice.

River felt the rage sweep through her. She gave a snort, and stepped forward. Then, with a passionate force, she brought the back of her hand across his face.

"I'm OKAY," she repeated. But the tone of her voice made it very clear she was very much a distance from okay. Her eyes began to fill with tears. Jayne brought his hand up to his cheek in surprise, as the smack of the blowechoed around the hold.

She then stood forward to strike him again. But as her arm swept through the air, he caught it. For a second their eyes locked, before he pulled away.

He gave her a strange look. Then, turned tail,and went to leave.

"Jayne.." She called after him, but he was already disappearing into the shadows under the stairwell. She then ran after him, and caught his arm. "Jayne," she repeated, this time with pleading in her voice.

He stopped. For an instant, he did nothing. And then he turned, suddenly, and pulled her toward him.

She was shocked at how quickly he grabbed her, and the hardness of his mouth on hers. His arms gripped her, and he pulled her toward his body. He was already hard. Instantly she felt a wave of vibration pass through her groin. She replied to his kiss, hungrily. But just as she reached down to his stomach, and began to unhitch his pants, he gave a low grunt and pushed her back.

"That's why," he rasped. "That's why. Because of _that. _I gotta keep my. Distance."

"But it's okay," she replied. "It's okay. You don't have to. And you can stay. There's no need for you to go." River had now opened her mouth, and the words just fell out. Just like, she noticed, they formed in her head. Things were becoming…clearer.

"I heard you talking to Mal," she continued, "But you said, time to go. But it's not. It's time to stay." And then, in a small voice: "Don't you want to stay?"

For a moment, he said nothing. But then, he let out a heavy sigh, and breathed: "I don't know."

He looked at her face, and lifted a hand. Gently, he drew his heavy fingers across her ivory cheek.

"You know, you're so gorram beautiful. And tough. Gorram, and so.. _hot._ But it ain't right, River. It hasn't been since we started."

She shook her head, violently, so that her long dark hair flew around her face. "Gosa," she said. What was he saying?

"Look," he said. "I can't tell you how I feel. Because there's too much else goin' on. I gotta. Sort. So forget it. Please."

She carried on looking at him, unbelieving. Jayne looked into her dark, demanding, - accusing - eyes.

He grimaced. "Don't look at me like that, y'hear? I just ain't got nuthin' to give ya. What you think you want ain't real. Or if it is, it's built on sand. So I gotta. Stay. Away." His voice had rasped with frustration.

"Do you want me to bust you up, in here?" he added, pressing his hand against his chest: "Or do you want to do it to me? 'Cos I don't want to do either. So jus' leave it alone. Whatever way you look at it. It's gonna end badly."

He breathed, and then spat out the words: "Can't you jus' pretend – it never happened?"

And then he walked away.

* * *

After that, she stayed away for a few days. But the feelings inside her began again to build. She started to check in with Wash on a regular basis. How far were they from port? Did it look as if they'd make it on time? Was there anythin' that needed sorting elsewhere… 

After a day or two Wash had started to second guess her. When she put her head around the door, he lowered his plastic dinosaurs from their latest battle. "About two days. Yes we will. And no there isn't. In fact, just like what I told you – say, a HOUR ago?"

So she stopped asking, and went to her room, to think.

River was an intelligent girl. She knew that she could, given the time, take Serenity to pieces, the build her back without a screw out of place. But she had to admit, the merc had got her stumped. Here she was, she reasoned, ready and willing, a heart full of care. And him, obviously feeling similarly.

But whereas she was embracing, he was rejecting.

And it seemed, he had made his mind up. There was nothing - for all her intelligence, her power, her strength - nothing, she could do.


	24. Chapter 24

Mal looked out across the gloomy vista of Montgom'ry.

It was early evening. The boat had made the trip in good time, in fact a few hours early, thought Mal. However it had meant that, for all of their time savin', they had ended up arrivin' in the middle of a gorram electrical storm.

He turned to Zoe and Inara, who stood alongside him as they peered down the ramp.

"Sure _is _crap-heel," he said.

The view before him was nothing more than an industrial nightmare. Huge, towering factories lined up for as far as the eye could see, pumping dark, heavy smoke into the already overcast sky. Already, the wind was picking up, and every gust brought a new cloud of dirt into the boat. Mal held a hand over his mouth.

A finger of lightening flashed across the sky. As it did so, it momentarily illuminated the hold.

Already, the rest of the crew were beginning to assemble on the stairs. Jayne had looked out for the girl, they figured. He deserved a decent goodbye.

"I told you he was sweet inside," Kaylee had said to them all, save for Jayne, over dinner the previous night. "I told you."

River had just gazed at the floor, and said nothing.

So they were all there. Wash, hovering on the top level, with a mixture of feeling on his face. Book, standing resolutely, as ever, his hands behind his back. Kaylee, just a few steps behind Mal, kicking the floor. Simon, next to her, rolling his eyes impatiently.

And River, standing beside him, in a daze.

* * *

Upstairs, Jayne was now packing up his things. He looked at the array of weaponry lying on his bunk. Mal had handed them all back, now that he was happier that Jayne'd lost a mind to using any of 'em on himself. He slowly blinked, before reaching for only Vera. He hitched her onto his shoulder, and went to climb the steps. 

Mal was the first to hear his boots on the steel stairway. He turned to look, and as he did so Jayne's eyes caught his. "Well, Mr Cobb," said the Captain, "when you said it was a hole, I expected it to be bad. But this is worse."

Jayne's boots landed on the hold floor, and he walked to face Mal. "Yeah, well," he replied, "You ain't caught it at its best time. Really, in the right light, it's quite, hm, 'ttractive."

No one said a word.

"Okay," continued Jayne, "it's gosa. But this is where I come to, and this is where I get off."

"Now you sure your fam'ly's still alive?" asked Zoe, "Don't mean to be funny Jayne but – well, I'm not sure this place is – survivable."

Jayne flicked his eyes in her direction, and raised a hand to his chin. He replied, darkly: "Well I survived.But yeah, they're here. Ma and the old man are home, 'bout a twenty minute hike down the hill."

He looked back to Mal: " You don't need to come with. In fact – " he paused: " I jus' wanna go. It's no big deal anyway."

There was a moment of silence, before he added: "Hell, I'll see you, around."

Jayne turned his back and went to move. But as he did so, Mal laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, you go," he said. "But remember, when you come back to yousel', and get a feelin' back for that gun o' yours, I'll be waitin'. Persephone. You know how."

Jayne said nothing. But as he glanced quickly back at the Captain, a understanding passed.

"Well," said the mercenary. "I guess that's it."

And he started towards the ramp, his head low, but with Vera hitched over his shoulder. The wind whipped through his hair, and rippled through his shirt. He looked out into the dark.

Well, he thought. Here I go.

But then, he felt her hand on his back.

* * *

"River?" 

It was Simon's voice. Jayne was standing, rooted to the spot.

"River, Jayne's going. It's okay, he wants to go," said the doctor. "Now come away. It's okay."

Jayne felt her warm palm press into his shirt.

"No it's not," came her determined voice.

Jayne closed his eyes. She was standing directly behind him.

"He doesn't want to go," she added.

Slowly, Jayne turned around to face her. She was wearing her darkest dress, which was just off-black, and no shoes. Her face was deathly pale.

Her eyes challenged him. He looked at them, but then glanced away. He waved a hand, non-committedly.

"Listen," he said, feigning annoyance, "You jus' get back to your brother, little sister. I liked savin' you some but you really gotta get – "

"I love you," she said, simply.

Jayne eyes wavered. He stared again: "Right. Okay. Anyway, as I said –"

"I love you." She said again.

Jayne clenched his teeth, and was silent.

* * *

Up on the top level, Wash peered forward. "What she's sayin?" 

Book shook his head. " I think – she said – she _loved_ him."

Wash laughed, quietly. "Well, that's a joke."

Mal meanwhile, flicked a look at Simon. "Doc," he said, "I think you'd better take her somewhere."

Simon meanwhile, was looking at River's back. He could see the tension in her arms.

"I…don't know…" he said. " Something's…wrong."

"You're not wrong," murmured Zoe. "This is _real_ crazy talk."

But River was answering her brother.

"Something _is _wrong, Simon," she said. "I love him. He loves me. But he wants to go. He's leaving me."

Simon's face darkened.

Jayne grimaced. "Cut it out, will you," he said, sharply. But as he did so, he gave a small shiver.

Mal saw.

"He's going," continued River, "But he won't tell me why,"

And with that, her face collapsed.

* * *

Jayne caught his breath. But then, he hesitated. 

The mercenary looked across at the crew. They were all - save for Wash, who was laughing - looking decidedly confused. Well, also except for Mal. Mal was looking at him with a fierce, knowing stare.

"Jayne," said the Captain. "Now that you've got us here, on this crap-heel you call home, you mighten's well tell us the gorram truth."

Another lightening strike flashed through the sky.

Jayne looked at Mal. Then he looked at the crew. And then, finally, he looked at River. The tears were streaming down her face.

His chest swelled.

"Stop it," he blurted. But the nonchalance had fallen from his voice. Kaylee and Inara swapped surprised glances.

"Just stop it, for gorram's sake. We talked about this, remember. Jus' don't do this to me now. Please."

River, meanwhile, continued to sob. "But I love you…"

Jayne looked again at the crew. Their confusion, he saw, was turning to shock. But slowly, as he looked at them, their faces began to fade out. His eyes returned, again, to her. Her ivory face, her dark, sad eyes. And after a few minutes, it was all he saw. Her pretty face, crushed.

He felt a wave of feeling overcome him. Gorram it, he decided. Let's do this, sommbitch.

So he opened his mouth, and spoke.

"River," he said, "Don't cry. You gotta understand. I ain't a man for flowers and soft and forever. It just ain't me. I'm a mean dumb sommbitch who won't ever be able to talk to you 'bout astrophysics or nuthin' even close. Which is why I ain't the one."

"I ain't never had anything sweet and pretty in my life. And the only gorram thing I did have I killed. I did for my best friend 'cept at the time I had no ruttin' idea that that was what he was. Do you understand?"

She looked at him with big, red eyes.

Jayne's voice began to waver. "I seem to have spent all my time since then jus' chasin' the next thing that might well gorram do me in. I mean. I've enjoyed it some – but it ain't been all of me livin'. It's like a part o' me jus' never got goin' before. Only the bad parts my gorram pa punched into me and ruttin'….Randall fucked in my head."

Slowly, he reached out a hand, touched her face,

"But you've helped me see it. I din't know it when I first saw you - but you're like a light. I was lookin' to get rid 'o you but, then when we started, you jus' seemed so vulnerable but so strong. Like a pretty bug that I jus' can't squash."

The wind howled up the ramp, almost drowning out Jayne's words. He lifted his voice.

"When I was as low as any man could be you din't give me up. And I ain't ever felt with _anyone_ like I did with you. And I don't mean jus' sexual like. I mean, like someone who…cared. Like Lester. Which I why. I do. Feel. Like that. For you."

Jayne started to shake his head. "But you know, jus' as I begin to feel like a whole, which is when things start to turn. 'Cos now here we are, out back in this crap-heel place that spewed me out and its jus' shows me how different we are."

Slowly, his eyes began to fill. "You see. I know you think we got things in common - but the only thing we share is bad brains. Ain't no basis for a happy endin'. You see when you told me I was a faker, a hyena, you were right. I ain't gonna change that much. And if I can't hurt you in the body I can gorram hurt your mind."

"No Jayne, we share –" she started, but he interrupted.

"River. Look at where I come from. I never went to no school and I can't hardly count. You could look at any ship and be flyin' it within the hour. You can proba'ly speak more languages than I even know gorram exist. I ain't gonna meet your mind. And eventually you'll find a way home and you'll go back to that swanky life o' yours and the Docs. I can't _fit_ to that.

"But either way, what you really wants is a man to rely on. And whatever way you look at it, that ain't gonna be me. I spent close to forty years livin' like I do and not thinkin' o' anyone else but mysel'. Jus' 'cos I do something different once in my life don't mean it's a pattern. I mean, I know I got it in me to do the things that matter when it does. But life's not about bein' pushed into things. Makin' some big show. It's about every day."

"Don't you see," he cried, " I'll forget to tell you the right thing or forget to come home. Or they'll be other things. And over time, it'll matter. If I don't hurt your body I'll hurt you inside. And over a while I'll kill whatever we had sure as I shot the boy down."

He lowered his voice, and swallowed. The he grabbed her arm, and turned her to face the others. The crew were all standing, open-mouthed. Even Wash, whose laughter had died on his lips.

Inara had tears in her eyes.

"If you don't believe me, honey, look at them," added the mercenary, but he was also sobbing: "Look at their faces. It says it all. You're too good for me. They know it, and I know it too."

He pulled her back to face him, and almost yelled: "Go back to the boat. "'Cos I ain't comin."

And then, he pulled her towards him, pressed his lips hard against hers, and pulled away. Then he took a final look back at the crew, lowered his head, and started to walk.

The last sound he heard was a long wailing cry, as Simon held River back, disappearing into the Montgomr'y wind.


	25. Chapter 25

"You're not going to just leave him there, surely?" Inara leant over Wash's control panel and glared at Mal. Out the window, the vista of Montgom'ry had darkened even further. Wash sat in his chair, his hands hovering expectantly over the controls.

The rest of the crew were standing around, with various expressions of shock on their faces. Save for Simon, who had already taken River into the surgery, to calm her. After the ramp had raised, she had scrabbled desperately for the open switch, her cries like fingernails on a blackboard. But Mal had put out a hand.

"Get her out of here," he had demanded, his face like thunder.

Now, he was standing over Wash, his arms crossed.

Inara continued: "I think we need to sort this out, whatever it is, before we up and leave. There's obviously things we need to _know_."

Kaylee lowered her head: "River's mighty unhappy," she said, sadly. "Jayne din't look to shiny neither, Cap'n."

But Mal shook his head. "No."

Inara gasped. "But, Mal, how can you say that? It's so obvious.."

Book interrupted: "Captain, I really feel.."

And then, even Zoe: "Sir.."

But Mal clenched his jaw and repeated. "NO."

And then, with a definite nod toward Wash, "Boost her up. We've got jobs to find."

Wash glanced nervously at his wife, and then slapped a hand on the ignition, before pulling her up.

Inara persisted. She raised her hands, so her bracelets fell down her slim, tanned arms: "But it's _stupid. _Didn't you hear him? Whatever it was, it was real. I'm not saying I agree with how it happened, or _what _happened, but he really seems to love her. You're being a gorram idiot!"

Mal flashed her a glare: "Don't question me woman, least of all here – or you're off my boat!" But as his eyes locked into hers, he knew.

Jayne's words. They had formed the sort of admission she had really wanted from _him_, he thought. He lowered his eyes from hers, quickly.

Then he pushed the thought from his mind, and then glanced around at the crew. They were still standing on the bridge, their heads bowed, but muttering. The ship rocked as it powered through the sky.

"Look," he said, "I know what you think you're doin'. But it's not for the best. I know Jayne, better'n you. He ain't gonna do nuthin' unless it comes from him. So there ain't nuthin' _to_ do."

Kaylee raised her eyes to meet his. "But Cap'n, he ain't thinkin' straight. S'obvious.."

"Well that's as maybe, Kaylee. There were some things he said that made a mighty lot of sense. But either way, it's for him to figure, not for us."

He hesitated, and then reached out an arm towards his mechanic.

"I know it's tough," he said, more softly, as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "but if he wants us, he knows where to come. When, or if, he's ready."

The ship moved out of atmosphere, and dived into the black.

* * *

River felt the boat judder into vacuum. She gripped Simon's arm and looked him desperately in the eye. "Simon…!" 

"Ssshhh," he replied. He was grappling with a needle. He needed to sedate her, to get any sense from her. He stood over her, laid his hand on her brow, and gently pressed the needle into her arm. She bit her lip, anxiously – but almost immediately, began to relax.

"Now give it a minute, River, and we'll talk." But as he spoke, his mind was already processing. He furrowed his brow. Simon was angry. No - livid.

That ape. Touching his sister. It was – disgusting. More than disgusting. He had obviously take advantage.

He looked across at River's pale face. She was already much calmer. Slowly, she lolled her head toward him, and fixed him a look with her big, sad eyes.

Simon pulled closer. "Now River," he began, his voice straining, "I think it's time we had a proper chat, don't you think."

* * *

Things had been a struggle after that. At least for those first few weeks. The boat had continued on, unrelentingly, away from him. And as it did so, Simon had questioned her, talked, pleaded, demanded. There had been no space. 

There had been questions as to how it began. What he had said to convince her. When she had – been with him.

It had been hard. River had been struggling enough with her loss, without having Simon on her back. However many times he told her – it had been as much her as him – he failed to believe. So she was grateful when eventually, Inara took him to one side. And told him, in no uncertain terms, to stop the interrogation.

"You're not helping," River had heard her say. "And if you carry on, you'll drive her away. You have to believe what she says."

Inara had always been a slightly maternal influence on River. But the girl never appreciated or felt so close to her as she did in those dark days as they flew away from Montgom'ry. She came to her, and spoke. But crucially, she also listened.

Without her, River would have felt utterly alone. She had had all these feelings inside her, that she had wanted to share. And he had totally shut her out. She understood why, of course. He had made it clear. But she hadn't had a chance to tell him that she disagreed.

So she told Inara. He had assumed so much. That she wanted things from him. And although she realised perhaps he had in part been speaking truths – he was also wrong. The hopelessness, and waste of it, made her weep.

She had no desire at all to return home. Go back to her old life. The idea of her living now in the family home, studying, was laughable. She was, afterall, a killing machine. There was no denying it. And nor, she realised slowly, did she want to deny it.

The weapon inside her was part of River Tam. She was that weapon. But she was also a person.

It was this thought that finally got her to leave her cabin, and start to return to herself.

It led her, one day, to his bunk. She opened the hatch, and crept down the stairs. As she looked around, her mind remembering past occasions, she saw that everything was as he had left it. It smelt of cigars. His guns were still lying out. And when she had looked at them, she had realised why he had left them. They were hers now. If she wanted.

Her eyes widened. And for the first time in weeks, her heart lifted.

Straight away, she returned to Simon and told him, she was moving out. He looked at her, incredulously. But, pressing his lips together, he said nothing. So within days, she had set himself up in his room.

She laid out every single weapon. And then, she started to take them apart. And once they were apart, she put them back together. Piece by piece. Even the silver pistol.

The weeks passed. The boat stopped off to do one job, then another. By which time, she knew every single gun inside out. Further, she had managed to actually teach herself to shoot them, without provocation.

She had been setting herself up in the hold, putting herself through the paces. It gave her routine, focus.

Meanwhile, Mal had started to notice.

One day, she also laid herself down on the weights. She knew of course, she could never lift what he had. But she would find her own way. Strengthen herself. And over time, she did. He slim pale arms took on a slightly harder tone. She was able to lift her body with one arm.

Her clothes had been the last thing to change however. One day, while she was practicing her martial arts, she caught her skirts in one of the hold gratings. It ripped up to her hem, leaving her lily-white leg exposed.

So at the next stop en route, she wandered out into town, and spent. She came back with her own cargo pants and vests. And when she came to dinner that night, her lithe but strong body at last revealed, Simon had looked at her open mouthed.

"River, what are you.."

"What?" she snapped. And then: "I figured I was too old for school uniform." He had said nothing more.

Of course, she had still kept some of her dresses, for herself. But not the off-black one however. That had gone.

For all of her efforts however, almost two months later, she was still alone when she closed her cabin hatch.

Every night, she thought of him, and wondered what was doing, where he was. Ran her hands down her arms, imagining his touch.

Mal had helped. There was eventually another job on Ariel. That had been tough, as so many memories. But, despite the risks, he had let her come. They were desperate.

She had stood in the hold, a determined look on her face, her hair tied back, a laser rifle strapped across her chest. "Take me," she had said to Mal, "You know I can help." Her voice, so clear, concise.

He had looked at her and laughed: "Okay," he said, "Okay. You win. And anyway, I doubt the Alliance would recognise you anyway. You're like a new woman."

"No," she had replied, dully, as she had walked past, "I'm still the same, inside."

But she had allowed herself a smile, later, at the use of the term. Woman. No longer girl.

He had even let her continue her duties after she found out about the baby.

She had half expected it, half dreaded it. But when it was for certain, it put a hope in her heart. It was something to hang onto. But also protect. And something to remind her of him. It had been too long now, she realised – almost three months.

He wasn't coming back.

"River, this is just too much," Simon had raged, unable to control his disappointment. "You're only just a baby yourself. This is no place for it. It's ridiculous."

But again, Inara – and, interestingly, also Zoe – had come to her rescue.

"Well, I gotta say, I never did hear Jayne speak quite so well before, until that time," said Zoe, as she sat with River in her bunk, nursing a drink. "He was a dumb sommbitch – well, that much is clear – but you know, I think he really gorram loved you. And that's the rub."

"It'll all be okay, honey," added Inara, as she knocked back her own liquor."We'll look after you. Well, when you don't want to look after yourself."

Mal had said nothing. He knew better than to mess with the women on subjects like that.

And finally, Simon had also started to come round. "Hmph. Well, I suppose we'll cope," was the best he would admit to. But, she had noticed how tenderly he had started to hold her wrists as he checked her blood pressure. "Hope he has your brains," Simon had said one day.

And slowly, River began to accept she was facing life without Jayne. She could say his name. And although the pain of his loss remained, it was beginning to be something she could live with. He had been right.

She was a fighter, but also more. And she had found her place, here, on Serenity.

It was just a shame, she realised sadly, he would never know just how far she had come.


	26. Chapter 26

It was around three months later that Mal thought he spotted something familiar.

He was in Persephone, collecting some supplies - and as usual, the town was heaving. People jostling, arguing, shouting. The heat and dust rose off the crowd like a cloud. Mal was pushing through the throng, when he happened to glance to his left.

It was then he saw them, a good few feet away. Gun barrels, poking up above the crowd. Resting on a wide shoulder.

Despite himself, he felt a rush in his chest.

Vera.

Immediately, Mal pushed forward.

"Hey, hola!" he was shouting. "Jayne? That you…"

But as soon as he had seen it, the gun disappeared. He looked left, right, spun around.

"Move it, dumbass," murmured an impatient trader, as he pushed past the Captain.

Mal allowed himself to be shoved out of the surge, into the sidings.

For a good while, he said nothing. But then: "Well. I must've imagined it."

* * *

Later, Mal stood before Serenity's open ramp and looked out into the town. He had bought everything they needed. They were ready to go.

But as his hand now hovered over the ramp switch, he now hesitated.

"Gosa," he said to himself.

Zoe, standing a few steps behind him, looked up from her work. She had been lifting some trunks.

"Problem, sir?" she asked.

Mal said nothing for a while. But then: "I dunno. I think I.."

"Yessir?"

"Hm. Nothin'" he replied, and hit the switch.

* * *

A day later, he was sitting in the galley, musing, when River came in. She nodded a greeting before moving slowly over to the table, where she picked up an apple out of a crate. Mal had purchased fruit in town the day before. The last job had paid well.

"Mmmm," she murmured, before taking a bite. And then, with a full mouth, "I think, the term is, shiny."

Mal looked up at her. She was as ever, wearing one of her black vest tops that showed off her lithe, shapely arms . Also as usual, she had a laser rifle strapped down her back. However, as had been her want of late, she had her cargo pants hanging low and loosely around her hips, to account for her now rather generous bump.

The Captain waved an arm in her general direction. "So," he said, "how's that, erm, goin' for you?"

She stopped chewing, and looked at him in surprise. Then, she looked down at herself, then back at him. Slowly, comprehension flashed across her face. She smiled, and threw some of herlong, lustrous hair over her shoulder.

"Fine. I'm slowing down a bit, but that's only natural. Wushu is definitely out. But, hell," she cussed, obviously enjoying the word on her tongue, "'won't be for long. Then I can get back to doin' what I do. And maybe teach the boy a few moves along the way."

She looks good, mused Mal. Strong. But sweet. I can see now, what he saw in her.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So..you ever think of him?"

At the reference to Jayne, her smile immediately faltered.

"Of course," she replied. At which point, she lowered herself, gently, into a chair.

And then, slightly more sadly, "Every day. I mean, it's kind of hard to forget." She waved a hand over her stomach. "But that's okay. This is a good reminder. I mean, it was a hard time, but without him I would have never have found out just what I could do. It's just a shame…the things he had to go through, as well."

Mal nodded, slowly. She had seemed to grow up so much lately, he realised, it was frightening. Unless, he figured, she was always that grown up. He just never noticed before. Or she could never say.

"River," he spoke again. "Did he ever tell you about the thing with…his friend? When they were kids?"

"No," she replied. "We never had that conversation. But you know, I didn't need to know. I could feel it off him. Not the details – but the emotion. Just like.." she hesitated – "I can feel somethin' on you right now."

Mal looked into her eyes for a moment. Doesn't miss much, does she, he thought.

"Don't mind me," he murmured. "Guess I'm feelin' a mite sentimental today."

Then his face reddened.

"Do you think, River, that he really did love you?"

River looked at Mal again, in surprise.

"Yes," she replied, emphatically. "I think he had a lot of conflictions. But then, no one taught him how to really care for anything, did they? And what I've come to realise, was that that was the real problem all along. When he left …it was because he didn't really know what he had to do. Possibly because he couldn't be sure he was capable of really caring. Whatever did happen in his past had made him doubt himself too much. Even after our fight."

She continued: "But it's so…sad, because although I know he's a man that figures things out for himself, at the same time he's also a man that needs, on occasion, to be pushed in the right direction. When he was low, I pushed him. Maybe I didn't do everythin' right, but I think I helped him turn a corner, as much as he did me. Though I didn't think it through at the time. Well, obviously," she again waved a hand at her bump, "but that's why, well, part of me – _worries_. Who's there on Montgom'ry to push him? Help him to stretch himself, see the man he could be? I don't know. Maybe his mother. But I can't be _sure_."

For a moment, she was quiet. "Well, maybe I can. Because if he really was better, if he had've gotten over it all, I'm sure he would be here. With me." Her lip was trembling. "But, as is obvious, he's not."

She lowered her head slightly. "But it's okay. It's fine. Well, most of the time."

Mal stared at the wall. I was right, to leave him, he thought to himself. Let him work things out.

But I was also very ruttin' wrong. Because I forgot.

Whatever happened, he was still amean sommbitch - but worse, a proud one. And there's things he needs to know.

He turned to River, suddenly: "You know, young lady,I think I forgot to pick somethin' up _real_ important back in Persephone. I gotta go back, and fetch it."

And then he stood up, and strode off to the bridge, his face rigid with determination.

* * *

Less than twenty-fours hours later, Serenity lowered down into Persephone port, settled, and lowered her ramp. Mal walked out into the sun, his brown coat flaring behind him in the wind.

He stepped down, and purposefully walked into the crowd.

Moments later, he was in the bar. The same bar that, months before, he had sat with Jayne and Randall.

He looked around. As usual, there were the normal traders, crooks, thieves. But Mal didn't see any of them. He was looking for one man, and his guts told him, he was here. Gorram it, thought Mal, I jus' know it, I can feel it in the air.

He walked up to the doorway to the booth and stepped inside. Then he looked down at the broad figure who was sat there, his head lowered, his big hands wrapped round a mug o'alcohol, and as ever, a gun at his side.

"Jayne?"

The merc looked up with a half-expectant face.

"Hm," His eyes locked into Mal's.

"'Lo, dumbass."


	27. Chapter 27

Mal sat across from the mercenary, surprised at the mixture of feeling he had at seeing Jayne again. There was a residue of anger and disappointment, for times past. But mainly, relief - and even _pleasure_ - at seeing his ruttin' ugly face again.

The two men were sitting, opposite each other, at the booth. Mal looked expectantly at the merc. Jayne looked back, steadily, with his old air of defiance and nonchalance. But Mal noted a flash of anxiety in his eyes. I'm not sure I would've noticed that before, he thought to himself.

Somehow, Mal had known he would be here. But further, he had a feeling that the merc had wanted to be found. Jayne was looking mighty comfortable in his booth. In fact, he had the air of a man who had been sitting here for days. He was alsolooking mighty well.

He was wearing a black shirt and cargo pants that, against the tanned colour of his skin, made his eyes glint like cobalt. There was no hint of a single bruise. In fact, besides the old scars he had of old, Jayne was as well as Mal had ever seen him. Big, strong. Vibrant. Occasionally, his hand also went out to Vera, whom, Mal was heartened to see, looked as clean and loved as she'd ever done.

The old Jayne, thought Mal. He's back. And he found, to his surprise, a twinge of boyish excitement run down his back. At last. We can have go some - real fun.

"So?" asked Mal, his voice betraying his happiness: "Ain't you gonna tell me where you've ruttin' been for the past half-year?"

Jayne looked up from his drink. "Well, I guess," he began. "But first you gotta buy me'a beer." He gave a half-smile. It was devilish – again, like times of old. But also, Mal noted – ever so slightly _warm._

Presently, the men settled down to exchange their news. "Anyways," began Jayne. "I spent about two months at home."

He continued: "First thing I did was see my ma. Turns out she's pretty well, though bro's not too hot. Sick, y'know, with the Damplung? Anyways, that was good an' all. Weren't quite as chuffed to see the old man. In fact, I bust his head pretty good the first time I laid eyes on him. And I've gotta say, it felt great. He stayed pretty much away from me after that, the drunken old goat."

Jayne lifted his mug to his mouth. "But then I din't really go there for no reunion. In fact I din't know why I wanted to go there at all 'til I got there. But it turns out I jus' needed to go back, y'know, remember where I came from. Think about stuff."

He fell silent for a while.

"Well," prompted Mal: "What stuff?"

"Well, I'm still not totally sure. But I talked to the old dear about it some. She came up with some old gosa about me not forgivin' mysel' for the boy, and I dunno if that's true, but after she said it I felt a bit better'n I did before. So I guess there's somethin' in it. It was weird, y'know. Like I never really talked to her much before. I gotta say I won't be agin though 'cos when I started she jus' started to bawl like she was sad, but kept goin' on about how happy she was. Too confusin'."

The merc took a cigar out of his pocket, lit up and hung it off his lip. He carried on: "Though I think I really laid it to rest when I went up to Lester's tombstone. His fam'ly left a good while ago so it took me a'time to find it. Now I don't want you to tell no one this - but I kinda - _talked _to him for a bit. I mean I know he's dead so it made me think I really had gone bug-housed. But anyway, it seemed the right thing at the time. I told him about Vera, y'know. And how I killed that old bastard. And, well, other stuff."

Jayne's eyes momentarily darkened. "But then after a while, I realised I was talkin' to a dead guy, and stopped. But I left him a few o' Vera's bullets. He liked bullets, y'know."

The mercsucked at his cigar and looked across at Mal.

"You got the whole crew here, yeah?" he asked, suddenly.

Mal nodded. "Yeah. But go on,"

Jayne hesitated momentarily, before shrugging. "Hm. Anyway, I hung around for a bit and helped fix up the house. Pa'd let it go to gosa, the ruttin' pig-dog. So I bust his head agin for that. But then I got me a-thinkin' about what I was gonna do next. You know, it cost a few credits to fix up that place, and after a while I only had a few bits left. So I looked around for some work while I decided what to do. But y'know Mal, there's a lot of ruttin' crap-heel jobs out there. That pay like stink and make you wanna shoot yersel' from boredom. Can you believe it?"

Mal gave a wry smile. "Yes, Jayne, I can."

"I mean, there was one guy wanted me to fix his gorram boat. Did it well and good, well, kinda, but then he tried to swindle me. And I dunno, it came automatic like. You see, I…"

"Bust his head?" interrupted Mal.

"Yeah!" The merc looked at the Captain, enthusiastically. "And then it came to me. You know, I may well've done some ruttin' bad things in my time. But there are bad things and _bad_ things. And as long as they ain't too – well, _bad_, I like 'em. Hell, I'm good at 'em!"

Jayne flashed a sudden, triumphant smile.

"And I'm also _great_ with this!" He wrapped his fingers around Vera.

"As I told you six months ago, dumbass," replied Mal.

"Yeah, well, that still don't make you better'n me. Jus' makes you more – foreseeable," added Jayne, lamely. "Anyway."

The merc waved his hand in the air. The tender came over, quaking slightly, and laid down another mug o'beer.

Jayne continued: "So, I said 'bye to ma and Matty, and got on the next boat out of there. And since then, I jus' been goin' from job to job. Buildin' up a bit of cash, y'know. Getting' even with a few old hands."

At which point, he abruptly stopped talking, and started to drink.

Right, thought Mal. Seems I was right. He's back in a good place. So I'm going to start to work this. I gotta get him to the ship.

"So," Mal inquired, his voice as steady as rock, "What brought you back here?"

Jayne knocked back his drink, he caught Mal a glance. "Dunno," shrugged the big man. "Jus' turned up." His eyes revealed more than his words, however. They were - expectant.

Okay, thought the Captain. Now I think this is where River would say – he needs a _push. _

"So," said Mal, carefully,"You lookin' for a job? Because I could always do with – hm – 'nother gun."

At which point, Jayne's nonchalant, defiant demeanour started to give way. Mal could see - this was the opening he had been half- looking for, half-dreading. But all the same, it was obvious had been sitting here, most days, waiting for him to come and offer it.

He wanted, he realised, to come home. But at the same time, there was obvious confliction.

It had to be the girl.

Jayne hadn't mentioned her once. But Mal could see now, it was all over his face. As his body language unravelled, it was in the flash in his eyes, the way he was scratching his goatee. But most of all, the way he was now gripping his mug. He was holding onto it so tightly, his knuckles were turning white.

He said nothing.

Mal continued: "I mean, I can pay you. Thoughmy current merc don't charge me a dime. You see, she sees herself o' more of a protector I guess, rather than a merc. And figurin' that I'm still keepin' her and he brother from the Feds, it's a fairly sweet deal."

Jayne raised an eyebrow. Mal could see he was beginning to pique his interest. River with a gun. Jayne's hand carried on gripping the mug.

"But I know," continued the Captain, leaning forward: "I know that you're a man who onl'y thinks o' money. So I'd pay you. The old deal, ten percent." But there was no malice in his voice. Only challenge.

Jayne was quiet for a moment. He tapped his finger on Vera's barrel, absentmindedly.

And then, in a small voice, he spoke.

"Well, actually, Mal. I was kinda lookin' for a gig where I could… be with people I could, y'know, rely on?"

Jayne coughed. "Hm, people who might, y'know, look out for me some. If I, y'know, did that thing with their backs. The whole, lookin' out for 'em thing. Like."

Mal sat back in his seat and exhaled. _Finally._

His mind flashed back to the battle of Serenity. He remembered all those faces. The bodies. All those men he had lost, some of them, the best. He had never felt as proud of anyone as he had done that day. Until now. At that moment, he felt as if his chest would burst. The words he thought the man would never say, he had.

"Gorram it!" Mal was unable to keep it in. "Gorram it! Maybe there is hope in the worl' afterall!"

Jayne shifted uncomfortably in seat. He grunted.

Mal realised he would have to be careful not to overdo it. Quickly, he pulled himself together.

But as he did so, Jayne opened his mouth again, to speak.

"That's not to say, o'course, that Serenity is the right place to find that gig."

Mal's face fell like a stone. The rollercoaster of this man was even getting to him.

"What do you mean? Where else are you gonna find a bunch like us willin' to put up with all of your ruttin' gosa! I mean, do you know how much trouble you've caused…"

As soon as Mal had said it however, he knew he had touched on a raw nerve. Jayne's face contorted like he had touched a hot stove.

"Like what?" he demanded. "What did I do?"

There was defiance in his voice, anger. But also, Mal recognised, fear. The big man had obviously comes to terms with a lot in his life. But, of course, a man doesn't learn without changin' a bit. The humility remained. And with it, responsibility.

He's worried, realised Mal, about the girl.

Quickly, he retorted: "Oh, nuthin'. I'm being a superior cows-ass. Jayne." And then, quietly: "I'm - sorry."

Jayne's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. "Shee…I guess you're right," he replied, "Seems like the world sure is a surprisin' place."

Then, another silence fell across the table. Mal looked at the merc. And Jayne continued to look at him. But both were thinking about the same thing.

River.

Finally, Mal said it.

"Look," he started: "If you're worried about her, she's fine. You didn't do anything…well, much. She got upset, but she got on with things. And you're right, she did make a fine replacement. She is amazin'. And strong."

"Is she still doin' them martial arts moves?" Jayne asked, quietly. And then, wistfully: "They were sumthin'."

"Well, yeah…" replied Mal, "Although she's takin' a break right now. Which is why I – could do with you."

"Yeah," Jayne nodded, "It ain't to overdo that stuff. You can really screw yoursel' up. Especially when you got long limbs like that. Very fragile."

Mal bit his lip.

"Listen, Jayne," he began again. "why don't you jus' come and see for yousel'."

Immediately Jayne's knuckles turned a shade paler. He grunted, non-commitally.

"Don't you wanna?"

"Well, kinda."

"Kinda?"

"Oh, hell!" Jayne gripped the mug so hard, it then shattered. Beer and shrapnel flew across the table, spattering them both. "Now look what you made me done," snapped the merc. And then, leaning forward; "Of course I ruttin' do, you dumbass. But it ain't that simple is it. I mean, I din't do such as good job of tellin' her I was goin', did I."

He paused for a minute. "I heard her, Mal. I heard that gorram wail she gave when I left. I ain't never heard no one cry like that before. I bust her," he said, slapping his hand across his heart, "In here. Do they forgive people for things like that?" His voice trembled, momentarily.

Mal laid his arms on the table. He thought of River, with her long black hair, sitting in the galley. One hand on her laser rifle, the other on her curving stomach. Her son. _Their_ son.

This isn't bustin' anyone up but me, thought Mal. Gorram it.

He coughed, and recovered himself: "Jayne, I reckon they do. And I reckon she has. I've talked to her, y'know. She still cares for you. So if you want her, you should come back. Come _back_, you lunk."

The big man looked across at Mal in surprise: "And, what, you tellin' me you support that? You and the rest o' em? Even that brother o' hers….not that I care what he thinks, the poncy.."

"Even him, Jayne. Even him."

Jayne considered.

"Well that don't make sense," he said, after a time. "Why would you be so gorram laid back. I mean, you must know we was, y'know, messin' about …"

"Yes, yes," said Mal, quickly. "We know. God, don't we. But – it's okay. It's all okay. So why don't you – jus' come back, and come and see her. Come _back._"

Jayne looked at Mal.

"You're messin' with me."

"No, I'm not."

"Ain'tcha?"

"No."

There was another silence.

"So, you're sure? She'd be – okay- with it?"

"Yep."

The merc's face momentarily went blank, as if he was processing something inside.

Mal watched him, with growing unease. He had forgotten just how stubborn the man could be. And as it looked, he was in for a long ride.

So he was shocked when Jayne suddenly leapt to his feet, stared at Mal with strange, wide, but sparkling eyes, and grabbed for Vera.

"Okay," he said, "Let's go. Mal. Let's go _now._"


	28. Chapter 28

Back at Serenity, Zoe was bothered. She was used to Mal making impulsive decisions, but she wasn't used to him makin' them without tellin' her why. But here they were, back at Persephone - only a day after they pulled out of port.

"It's probably some mysterious war thing," offered Wash, as they sat together at the galley table. Zoe was cleaning one her knives.

She caught a glance towards her husband. "In which case, _darling_, why didn't he take me?"

"Hm. A mysterious man-only war thing?"

Zoe raised an eyebrow. She then looked at her pocket watch, and considered.

"Well, he's been out for a few hours. If he's not back in another. I'm going out lookin'."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the hold, Kaylee, Simon, River and Inara were playing horseshoes, as Book looked on. 

It was Kaylee's turn. As she held a rusted shoe in her hand, she narrowed her eyes and ever-so-slighty stuck out her tongue. She was concentrating on her target – a metal bar stuck through one of the hold gratings about twenty feet away.

Eventually, she threw it. It bounced off one of the crates standing alongside the bar, and clattered on the floor close to Simon's feet.

He looked up at Kaylee, nervously. "Hm. Good try?" he offered. Kaylee glowered.

River rolled her eyes impatiently, before wordlessly grabbing another shoe from the floor, and propelling it into the air. It slammed into the bar, span around, and came to rest, dead on target.

Inara laughed gaily as she clapped her hands together. Kaylee and Simon gave River an irritated look.

"S'no fair!" said Kaylee. "She's got maths in her brain!"

"And a half-ton of extra weight hanging round my front," replied River, as she moved her hand steadily round to her back. "Not exactly conducive to parlour games."

Inside her, she felt another kick.

* * *

Jayne, stopped, looked across at the boat and sighed. It was Serenity, as Mal had said, in port, and lookin' just as fine but beat-up as ever. 

There was only a few hundred feet of distance from him and her open hold.

A few hundred feet between him and - her.

Well, that. And a mass of mud and churning locals.

Mal, who had up until that point been trailing behind the mercenary, now pulled up alongside him. He attempted to catch his breath. "Jayne," he gasped, "I was gonna say - before you took off like a ruttin' gazelle -that it might be a good idea that I just give her warnin' before you just appear. It might give her a - shock."

The merc was barely listening. He furrowed his brow. "Eh?"

His eyes were focused on the hold. His gut tensed. She was in there, somewhere.

Absentmindedly, he replied: "She's had sharps bits stuck in her brain, Mal. Been frozen, shot at, not to mention been party to a bit of tumblin' with yours truly. I can't say as there's much'll shock her."

Jayne exhaled. He could feel his throat tightening with nerves and excitement. He remembered now the feel of her thighs around his waist. Her lips across his neck, on his chest. Her slippery, lithe back. But also her big, dark eyes. Like pools of oil.

Pools to get lost in. Make things better.

I'm gonna see her, he thought. Feel her. His breath quickened.

He went to step forward, but Mal caught his arm. "Well, all the same," he said, "All the same. I think it would be best."

"Why?" Jayne's head whipped around to face Mal.

Mal saw that the tense but exhilarated look he had worn just seconds before had disappeared. He was now looking ashen. "Is there sumthin' wrong with her?" he demanded.

"Nothin', she is well and healthy," replied Mal. "I jus' think.."

"She don't really want to see me, does she?" Jayne suddenly barked. "Dammit, Mal, don't screw me around!"

There was a note of threat in his voice. Mal recognised that, despite the anxiety in his features, he was deadly serious. In fact, as he stood there, one eye on the ship, and the other bearing down on Mal, the Captain saw there was something in the way he was holding himself that sent shivers down his spine. It was - primal.

If this is love, thought Mal. I don't want none of it.

Mal's hand, which was still resting on Jayne's arm, tightened its grip. He could feel the merc's sinews tensing, so he started to speak, in a low, calm voice. "Jayne. Look, she does. I know so, 'cos I only had the gorram conversation with her yesterday, but I didn't tell her I was comin' back for you, jus' in case my hunch was wrong.I just need to give her a little time to get her head round it. I mean, it could be upsettin'"

Mal thought of River's hand, resting gently on her stomach.

Jayne glared at the smaller man as he considered. And after a time, he gave a slow nod. His shoulders lowered. "Okay," he said. "We'll get a bit closer, but then you can go in. Give me the nod, and I'll come."

"Jus' don't be too long, though," he added, sharply. And then, in a rare moment of exposure, he rasped: "This is bustin' me up. I wanna see her so _much_. But I also wanna - leave. Understand?"

Again, his tone was half-threat – half-plead. Mal looked at the big man's eyes. He's a survivor, thought Mal. But emotionally, he's a child. It's like, _she's_ the adult.

Strange how those things work out.

Mal nodded, and together, they stepped into the throng.

* * *

Minutes later, Mal stepped up Serenity's ramp, alone. 

He stopped, momentarily, and peered over his shoulder. In the near distance, he saw Jayne. He was standing, his head slightly bowed, just under one of the heavy tarpaulins that draped across the storefronts along Persephones' harbour. He was looking out at the boat from under his brows. He had a cigar lit, and was pulling on it, nervously.

Mal gave him a look. Wait there.

Jayne blinked.

Mal then turned around, and looked into the hold. Immediately his eyes fell onto River, who was sitting on the hold floor, propped up against a crate. She was wearing her usual mercenary garb, but her feet were bare.

She was watching Kaylee have another attempt at throwing a horseshoe. Inara sat slightly in front of her. They were both laughing.

He stood there for a moment, watching her. As River's smiled, she tossed her dark hair back, revealing her slim neck and shapely collarbones. She looks happy, he thought.

He glanced back at Jayne. He noticed that the merc's face had changed again.The big manwas looking past Mal, into the hold. His cigar was hanging off the corner of his mouth.

He's seen her, thought Mal.

The Captain turned again to look at River. She was laughing again, merrily. She's done well to cope alone, he thought. But now it looks as if she'll not have to, anymore.

Decisively, he took a step forward.

But just then - Zoe's hand caught his sleeve.

"Sir," she began. She had appeared out of nowhere."Where have you been? It's hard enough keeping track of what the gosa we're doing most days, without you going awol as well…"

"Mal glanced at Zoe, quickly. He then looked back at the girl. He shook Zoe's hand off his arm. "Yes, well, I'm sorry. I've jus' been sortin' something out. As you'll see if you just let me –"

"But sir – "

* * *

Over under the tarp, Jayne's hand started to form a fist. His eyes had found what they were looking for. 

He couldn't see much. But what he could, was enough. Her head and shoulders, peeping out from behind one o' them cargo crates. She was smiling. Her hair was as black as a Montgomr'y sky.

His hand started to shake.

"Gorram it," he murmured, "Keep it together. C'mon. Jayne."

* * *

Zoe let Mal go."Okay. Sorry. I was just. Worried." 

"I know. My bad. But you'll see," Mal looked at Zoe for a moment. He hesitated. Then he moved his mouth to her ear. "I've got –" he hissed – "_Jayne_ outside."

Zoe started. As she did so, Inara glanced across at her and Mal. Her brow furrowed.

"So I've managed to get him to agree. To talk to her," Mal was saying. "He's outside…"

Inara suddenly appeared at his arm. "Mal…? What is it?" she inquired.

Mal sighed in exasperation.

"_Jayne?_" said Zoe.

Inara looked at Zoe, then back at Mal. "_Jayne?"_she repeated. "He's alive?"

Mal's hands formed two fists, which he then proceeded to shake. "Yes, gorram it. Jayne. Under the tarp across the road. Anyway, don't do nuthin'. He's like a bear -"

But as he said it, both Inara and Zoe had already turned to look.

* * *

Jayne watched as both Inara and Zoe's eyes fell on him. He felt the flush of a nervous sweat begin to appear on his brow. 

Jayne noticed a look on Inara's face.

"She don't look too happy," he said, aloud.

* * *

Inara strained her eyes, grimacing. "I can't see him."

* * *

Jayne looked again at Inara. 

He saw River laughing.

She looks happy, he thought. Beautiful.

And then.

"I'm not sure I c'n do this."

* * *

Zoe meanwhile, had caught Mal's collar as he had started once again towards the girl. 

"Well, are you sure that's wise?" she asked.

"What?" Mal was getting mighty irritated.

Meanwhile, on the floor, River had noticed the whispering coming from them, as they stood close to the ramp. She narrowed her eyes, and tried to overhear.

"She's over six months gone. Ain't you supposed to avoid shocks…"

Zoe had read up on it. Afterall, since River had got pregnant, it had been an opportunity to see how, perhaps, faml'y life fitted on this boat. P'raps convince Wash. Not that he had a choice anyway.

"Yes," said Mal, " which I why I'm givin' her some warnin' before the big ape lumbers over. He ain't good in these situations. Gets - upset."

* * *

Jayne looked down at the ground. He looked at his hands, which were covered in dirt, and beer. He could hear his heart pumping in his ears. 

"Hm," he said.

And then, "No."

He began to turn.

* * *

River, slowly, rose up from where she sat. For an instant, she allowed herself to lean against the crate she had previously been sitting on. She was still holding one of the old horseshoes used in the game. 

As she steadied herself, she angled her head to look at the Captain. He body was leaning in her direction, but his head was turned towards the two women. They were in deep discussion about – what?

She could feel a mix of emotion from them. Some excitement. Much concern.

River started to walk towards them, her hand placed protectively under her bump. As she did so, she saw Inara catch view of her out of the corner of her eye. A look of panic went across the Companion's face.

River stopped in her tracks. Zoe also raised her eyes to hers.

"What?" said River. "What is it?"

But as she asked, her own eye caught the profile of a familiar figure, moving slowly away from Persephone's madding crowd. A pair of broad shoulders, supporting a pair of clean, silver gun barrels.

The back of his neck.

Her horseshoe landed on the hold floor with a clatter. And then, barefooted, she started to run.


	29. Ending

"No," muttered River, under her breath, "No, you are not doin' this to me again. You are not" – she dodged past a passing trader, "doing this to me AGAIN."

She was pushing through the Persephone crowd, her pale-skinned feet sinking into the mud as she pushed against the surge of bodies. Her face was set in grim, if desperate,determination.

"Let me gorram THROUGH!" she shouted, her eyes glowing like coals. As she shoved, her forcefulness drawing surprised gazes from faces around her, she cocked her head to peer above their heads. He had stopped walking, a distance ahead. His head was lowered.

She also came to a halt, and yelled his name. The shape of it on her lips felt alien. It was a word that had since come only to be mentioned in passing, in quiet, accepting - regretful - tones. But now, it was a name shouted, in urgent demand. He was alive. Here.

She yelled again, louder. But no response. She started to push, again, one hand in front of her - another across her stomach, protecting that which she carried.

"Let me _through_," she shouted again. And then, with mounting desperation. "_Please_, get out of the way….".

Mal and Zoe were only feet behind her, following in her wake. The others were hanging out of the back of the boat, reaching for view.

"The pig-headed gorram – " Mal was cussing.

"God, this man is beyond – " Zoe swore.

Up ahead, Jayne was standing in a side street, undecided. He looked at his hands again, clenched them, unclenched. His heart was in his mouth.

He murmured: "I don't know – what to..."

But he never finished.

BANG.

A scream.

Both Mal and Zoe stopped in their tracks.

Jayne spun around. His hands whipped across his body. No damage.

Then he looked into the crowd. Someone wailed.

"Oh god..!" started Zoe, and then, "River!"

Mal pressed his lips together. What had –

BANG.

Another gun blast.

And then, like a gust of wind rippling tall grass, the crowd opened up before them. And there she was.

River was standing, resolutely, in the middle of the Persephone carriageway. The crowd were standing in a circle around her, wide-eyed. She was upright,bump protruding, her feet and face splattered with mud.

She had a laser rifle, pointed to the sky. A trail of smoke rose from its barrels. But now she was swinging it down. She pointed it towards the town.

Again, the crowd parted before her. And there, at the end of the open space that rolled out before her, was Jayne.

River's barrels were aimed directly at his chest.

He was looking at her with unbelieving eyes.

"You take _one _step more away from me, Jayne Cobb," she yelled angrily, pausing momentarily to catch her breath - "and I'll shoot you where you stand!"

* * *

Several moments passed before anyone could speak. Passers-by were all looking, with a mixture of terror and curiosity, at the girl who stood in their midst. Her black hair was streaked across her face, and she was breathing, heavily. Her shoulders rose and fell. 

They looked at her. Then they looked at the gun. And then, they looked along its sights to where a big, muscular man was standing.

"So," she began again, her voice edging on shrill, "First you leave me at Montgomr'y. And now you're doing it _again_?" Her tone was one of rage, confusion. "How _long_ have you been here for? How _long_?"

The big man carried on looking at her, his mouth hanging. He was staring at her with a strange expression. He looked suddenly, incredibly fatigued.

"Jayne!" cried the girl, her arm now beginning to tremble, "Talk to me, NOW. Or by god I will do for you. You gorram piece of –". Her voice began to break. "_Gosa_," she sobbed. The surge of adrenalin she had felt on seeing him was leaving her. Instead, just as him, shock was taking over.

At that point, the crowd saw a dark haired man and attractive black woman came up and stand beside her. The man laid a hand on her shoulder, pressed his lips to her ear, and started to whisper. Meanwhile, the woman wrapped her fingers around the barrel of the gun, and looked her in the eye.

The girl continued to stare. For a while, she seemed to resist. But slowly, she lowered her rifle. The black woman took it from her, and began strapping it to her belt. Then she began to lead to young woman towards one of the tarpaulins, with a protective arm around her shoulders.

The man turned to the crowd and warned: "Nuthin's to see here..."

At which point the locals started to mutter, and then fell into another swell.

* * *

Jayne carried on looking at her, as Zoe guided her to the tarp alongside. River glanced at Zoe, then at him, nervously. Meanwhile his eyes flashed to the generous swell of her abdomen. His brow furrowed. 

Immediately he started towards her, his body lurching with nerves and uncertainty. But Mal caught him however, with an arm across the chest.

"Okay," said the Captain. "That didn't quite go to plan."

But Jayne could hardly hear him. Every sense was targeted on the small woman who stood now only feet before him.

"Just leave it a moment," added Mal. "She's had a shock."

The merc blinked. Then he looked at Mal with a strange, desolate expression. "_She's_ had a shock?" he murmured. And then, exhaling quietly: "You din't tell me she was, uh."

He shook his head.

Mal looked at his face. He was suddenly pale and drawn, as if someone had sucked the energy out of him. Emotion, thought Mal. Shock. Worse than any ten-mile run.

Mal shrugged: "I know, I'm sorry. I thought it best to –"

He was surprised, however, to see that there were already tears in the big mans eyes. He looked across at Mal, with an expression so fragile, that for a moment Mal thought he would break.

"Who's she gorram _been _with?" he sobbed, with a voice like broken glass. "Why din't you _tell _me.."

Mal to a second to register what he was asking. But when he did, he couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. Jayne's eyes suddenly snapped into an expression of glowering rage.

The Captain coughed, and then blurted: "No one, you gorram dumb sommbitch. For god's sake Jayne, do I need to spell this out?"

Jayne continued to look at him with a desolate, blank expression.

Mal sighed. He looked across at River, who was obviously beginning to calm, as she talked in low tones to Zoe. As she was speaking, however, her eyes never strayed far from Jayne.

"For god's sake, Jayne," he muttered. "It's yours."

The merc looked at Mal with incomprehension. But slowly, as the words sank in, his face began to burgeon with understanding. He blinked, and then put out a hand to steady himself against the smaller man. Mal's knees bent under the strain.

Jayne turned his head to look at her, again. Her eyes were nervy, teary and red. He felt a wave of protectiveness come over him like a cloak.

He hesitated for a moment. But then he took a single wobbly step in her direction.

Mal stepped away, while gesturing at Zoe to do the same.

* * *

As River watched what was happening, she felt as if she was removed from the scene, watching it happen to someone else. She barely felt Zoe's arm leave hers. 

He was approaching her.

In many ways, he looked no different. But, she noticed, despite his current dazed expression, he was holding his body in more like the ways of old. He was lighter on his feet - no longer weighed down by the past. And she saw, that although he was obviously nervous, his whole body was focused on her.

She could see it in the way he moved. It reminded her of the way he had been all that time ago, in the copse on that dusty planet. But whereas then, the driving force had been more physical - he desire for her - this time, she could see vulnerability in his eyes. He was making no attempt to hide it. He _needs_ me, she thought. And then, with a knot of emotion in her throat - he's been so _lonely._

A wave of empathy passed through her.Because despite it all, and how far she had come, she had always been aware that nothing had quite filled the gap he had left. Not even the life within her.

I've _missed_ you, she thought. His eyes were as blue as sapphires.

And you look so - _beautiful_.

Suddenly, he was right before her, his tall figure looming over her own.

Jayne looked at the woman before him. When he had been on his way to the boat, he had had so much to say. So much fear, but most of all, so much care. He wanted - no _required_ - to tell her how much he had missed her. That he had thought of her pale skin, her kind, dark eyes, her cool body - every day.

But now, as he stood before her, and he looked into her terrified, questioning eyes - she realised he had no idea how to start. What words to use. Her face was so familiar -but yet also so strange. It had been so _long_.

All he wanted to do - was touch her.

River continued to gaze at his face. However, momentarily, she felt a warm glow on her stomach. She looked down, to find that Jayne had laid a hand, gently,on her bump. He was now looking at it. His skin was dark, scarred. But his eyes were as a child's.

River felt a strange, peaceful sensation move through her body. For a few seconds, they were still.

She started slightly as he dropped Vera into the mud.

Then he reached out his other hand, wrapped his dark fingers around her pale arm, and pulled her towards him. She closed her eyes, exhaled with relief, and relaxed. She felt his arms wrap around her.

Her feet slowly left the ground as he held her to his body.

Jayne pushed his face into her hair, and breathed.

* * *

EPILOGUE 

Jayne sat out on the ramp and looked at the blue sky above him. The boat had set down on some dusty, empty terraform – as ever, Kaylee had repairs to make. But it was okay. He liked it when they stopped off like this.

It gave him the chance to walk out into the sun.

It also, he noted, gave Mal a bit longer with Inara.Was only a matter o' time before he finally got the nerve up, thought Jayne.

He looked down at the small, olive-skinned baby on his lap, and then at the variety of other pistols, bullets, and cleaning implements laid out on the ramp before him. The child looked uncomprehendingly at the guns, then looked back at Jayne.

"'kay, "began the merc, as his son watched him with attentive, blue eyes, "This, " he pointed, "is Vera. Now she's my _very_ favourite gun. So you ain't to touch her, well, at least not for a little while. And you clean her using this grease stuff – no don't eat it .."

The baby had grabbed the grease tin out of his hand –

".. although I dunno what its made of, but, " Jayne stuck a finger in it –

"Hm, actually, it don't taste too bad."

Behind him, he heard the familiar sound of River's boots. They stopped just behind him, and she crouched down, and snaked her long arms across his shoulders.

"I'm not sure that's – healthy," she said, kindly.

"Hm," he replied, and put the tin to the ground. The baby pressed his hand against his father's jaw and gave his mother a wide, sunny smile.

"You off on another job then later?" asked Jayne of River.

"Yeah, it's my turn. You gonna be okay with him?"

"Yeah, 'course," he said. "I haven't even start'd to show the boy the clip-loaders, so plenty of stuff t'get through." At which point Jayne learnt forward and picked up one of the smaller pistols that lay on the floor before him, and waved it in front of his son's bemused face. "See, look, Lester, this one's a beauty.."

River smiled. "Well," she said, "Just don't let him played with any _loaded_ ones, okay?"

Jayne tipped his head back and flashed her a look. "I'm fairly dumb," he said, "but I ain't _that_ dumb." And then, after a pause: "And anyway's - you'd ruttin' _kill _me."

River ran her fingers through his hair and started to raise herself up. But just as she began to move, she hesitated. She quickly lowered her head back towards Jayne's, and laid her chin on his shoulder.

"So is it all…as you thought it would be?" she asked, gently. "Since you came back? I mean, it's not exactly an average way of life, is it…" Her voice trailed away, uncertainly.

Jayne lowered his pistol back onto the ramp, and raised his eyes to look across the great expanse of desert that opened up before them. For a moment, he was quiet.

"If ya mean it's dangerous and scary," he began, "..considerin' your still a fugie, weird 'cos I have to keep my bunk tidy, and – " he glanced at his son, "sometimes _noisy_, then hell it ain't average. But then I guess never looked for average. I jus' wanted to do what I had to do."

He then lowered his eyes, before adding, quietly: "Jus' turns out I found someone gorram amazin' to do it with."

Behind him, she flushed red for a moment. As she did so however, Jayne's face fell into a serious expression.

He continued: "But you must remember - if you ever wanna go, any time, to do stuff wi' your brain, be _more_ than this, you gotta say. I'd hate it, but I know that things change, and well, when they do, you gotta go with 'em rather'n avoid it. I know that –"

River reached round a hand and pressed it over his mouth. "I know," she said."I know. You don't need to say."

She took her hand away, before continuing: "But you should also know that I am usin' my brain. Two years us bein' chased by the Feds and still we've kept goin'."

"Not without the others," said Jayne, "We'd not've doen it without 'em."

"Of course," she agreed. "But then they'dve also struggled without you & me, you big, mean…" At which point she pressed her mouth against his ear, and started to whisper just exactly what she….

Jayne's face went into an intense stare. "Hm," he said.

Then, returning to himself, "Stop it, you gorram devil-woman. Not in front of the kid." But as he spoke, he was laughing. She smiled, raised herself up, and walked away.

Jayne looked out again at the desert.

Slowly the laughter fell from his lips, but he continued to smile. Then he looked down again at his baby son, who was gazing at him with unblinkered adoration. Lester then narrowed his eyes in concentration, before pressing his tiny hand into a tiny fist.

Jayne stood up, and lifted him into the air.

"C'mon son," said the merc, "let's go find us some beetles or sumthin'. I tell ya, once you pull their legs off, they do the dang most curious thing…"

END

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi, I hope if you go this far you enjoyed this fic. It kinda fell out of me and I really enjoyed it! A Boy Named Sue is a Johnny Cash song for those of you who didn't get the ref. Listen to it, it's a Jayne song.


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